


Turning Point

by smithchuck



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male Slash, Non-Graphic Violence, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-18 13:59:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 31
Words: 56,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4708529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithchuck/pseuds/smithchuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU - A serious accident is the turning point in Colin and Ryan's relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is very AU from the show 'Whose line Is It Anyway." I don't feel real comfortable writing about real people, but I love the people that Colin Mochrie and Ryan Stiles portray on the show. So their backgrounds and lives are very different in my story than the real people. 
> 
> The story starts at the end of the second season of 'Whose Line." The guy met only briefly in their twenties, only Ryan was in 'Whose Line, UK" and they really didn't start to get to know each other until the first season of 'Whose Line." Ryan is recently divorced and Colin is openly gay. Colin is 34 and Ryan is 32, even though this story is more or less set in present time. So on with the show.

Three of the cast of ‘Whose Line Is It Anyway’ settled into the dingy bar not far from the studio. It was their regular meeting place after tapings; quiet, not too dirty, and with cheap beer. For some of them it was a place to wind down slowly from the adrenaline rush of performing before heading home to play happy families. For others, the camaraderie of being with friends was better than an empty hotel room.

“Hey, Ryan, where’s Colin?”

Ryan glanced up from where he slouched on his chair. “Ahh…” he hoped the dim lighting of the seedy little bar would hide his flush. “He took off right after we finished taping.”

“What,” Greg snarked from the corner chair, “we too rowdy for the innocent little Rapunzel?”

“You’re just jealous ‘cause you never get to be the girl,” Wayne razzed. “Colin’s much cuter than you are.”

Ryan grinned, remembering the Sound Effects scene they’d done earlier that day. His own personal damsel in distress. It only made it funnier that his damsel was both bald and a guy. As the token openly gay guy on the show, Colin was almost always the girl in any scene, taking it mostly in amused resignation. He loved how Colin played women on the show. The Canadian never went for the obvious; no mincing walk, no fluttering hands, no high pitched voice, but somehow convincingly being Ryan’s little damsel. He stayed Colin, reacting to Ryan’s cues or the sound effects of the chosen audience members or the lack there of.

“He can get plenty rowdy when he wants to,” Ryan replied, remembering some of their escapades with amusement. Colin by himself rarely got into trouble, but when together, each egging each other on, they had found their share of adventures.

“He felt the urge to cook and he can’t do much in that rented room, so he invited himself over to my house.”

“Oooohhhh,” Greg moaned. “Romantic dinner…just the two of you…”

“Go fuck yourself, Proops,” Ryan replied amiably. He’s heard some of the rumors of him and Colin. Of course, Colin being openly gay only fanned the flames. At first, Ryan’d had a hard time with them, until, over the last year, he'd realized certain basic truth about himself and what he wanted. Now the rumors only bothered Ryan by the fact that they weren’t true. At least not yet. Soon, if he had his way.

“I’m not that flexible,” Greg grinned back.

Picking up his glass, Ryan sucked down the last of his beer. “I should be getting home myself. If Colin’s going to the trouble to cook for me, I don’t want to be late. Believe me, the man can…” he let a leer curl his lips for his friend’s amusement. “cook.”

He grinned at the good-natured sound of retching and catcalls from his friends.

“Ryan,” came a soft call from the doorway.

He turned, the quip on his lips dying.

Eye wide and shocked, ghost white under his California tan, Drew stood just inside the door.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan leapt to his feet.

“Why don’t you have your cell on? They’ve been trying to call…”

“I forgot it at home.” Ryan’s heart hammered in his chest. “Drew, what?! Who’s been trying to get a hold of me?”

Drew stammered. “There…there’s been an accident,”

Ryan knew, just by the look on Drew’s face. He tried to deny it with all his might, but he knew.

“Colin?” he whispered. The horrified cursing behind him barely registered.

Drew’s head jerked up and down. “I just got a call from the police. They tried to call you three, four time. They recognized my name on Colin’s contact list and called me. They wouldn’t tell me much but I think…I think it’s bad.”

Grabbing his jacket, fumbling for the keys in the pocket, Ryan was almost out the door when he felt an arm grab him around the waist.

“Wait a minute, Ryan.” “No, I gotta get there.” The only thing in his mind was getting to Colin, he had to get there, even if he had to go through other people. “No one’s going to stop me.”

“Nobody wants to, Ry,” Drew assured him. “But you’re in no shape to drive. I’ve got a car coming up front to take you to the hospital. Greg, Wayne, why don’t you go with him? I’ll get some other things squared away and be there as soon as I can.”

Ryan nodded in a daze. _I’m coming, buddy, hang in there. Oh god, please, hang in there._

_______________________________________________________________________

Ryan flew into the Emergency Room, easily outpacing both Greg and Wayne. Before he even made it to the information desk, a young woman in teal scrubs trotted up to them.

“Family of Colin Mochrie?”

“I'm his partner," Ryan responded, not caring if he claimed a role not rightly his. Not caring who might hear or what might be on the internet the next day. Only caring that he be allowed to see Colin.

“We got a call from Mr. Carey, saying you were coming. You got here just in time,” the young woman turned down the hallway with a follow-me gesture. “I’m Dr. Arun. Mr. Mockrie is being prepped for surgery right now. If we hurry, you can get a minute or two with him before they take him in.”

“How is he?” Ryan dared to ask. “He gonna be okay?” Ryan didn’t see anything in the young doctor’s face that he wanted to see.

“He’s critical.” Dr. Arun answered, eyes averted. She pushed open a door in front of them. “He’s in the first room on the right. Just to warn you, he’s been intubated, he isn’t breathing on his own.”

Not brea….Ryan fought against the implications of that statement. He wanted to ask more questions, but his own panicked knowledge that Colin would be whisked away, possible forever, in a matter of minutes kept him silent. Taking a deep breath he entered the room.

It wasn’t quite as bad as what he’d steeled himself for. There were no pools of blood or obvious maiming of limbs. Only Colin, lying sprawled on his back, a plastic tube in his mouth, his broad chest – already shaved - rising and falling with the regularity of the machine at his side. Something about his chest looked wrong, but Ryan had no time to analyze it.

“Oh, Col,” he moaned. Reaching out to grab, he jerked back inches from contact, not knowing where to touch that wouldn’t cause pain to his wounded friend.

“That’s okay,” the dark-haired man at Colin’s side glanced up. “Touch him all you want. You wouldn’t hurt him.”

With that, Ryan clamped onto Colin’s arm, moving up to stand by his head. “Col, I’m here. Can you hear me, buddy? It’s gonna be alright. Just hang in there, okay.”

The dark-haired man – Tom by his name tag – didn’t look up from his work, which seemed to be threading a needle into the artery in Colin’s wrist. “Arterial line,” Tom explained without being asked. “It’ll help us keep a close eye on his blood pressure. As soon as I’m done, they’ll be taking him into surgery.”

Understanding the warning, Ryan grabbed up Colin’s limp hand, pressing it to his lips. To his surprise, he felt a slight answering pressure. He looked down into Colin’s obviously heavily drugged but focused eyes.

“Hey, buddy,” Ryan whispered, unable stop himself from stroking his free hand over Colin’s forehead and cheek. “You’re gonna be alright, Col.”

He hated seeing the fear and confusion in those big brown eyes. Leaning over, he wrapped as much of his long arms around his friend as he could. Ignoring the other presence in the room, he pressed his face against Colin’s. “I love you, Colin Mochrie.” Finally saying the words he barely let himself think, much less say. “I love you.”

“I’m done,” Tom announced. “I’m sorry. We have to bring him into surgery now. One of the nurses will show you where you can wait.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Ryan waited, vaguely aware of Greg and Wayne’s supporting presence. A nurse or some kind of hospital staff showed them to the surgical waiting room and they waited. Drew found them there and the four of them waited. Time passed and they waited. They made themselves at home in one of the small cubicles with multiple chairs and a television and they waited. Brad showed up sometime later and they all waited together. The television droning in the background, they waited, periodically one of them would wander over to the monitor which listed patients and their status. MocC was always still listed in SURG2 so they waited. Hours passed, Wayne and Brad left, bringing back some food and coffee from somewhere when they returned and they waited.

Ryan tried to keep his mind in neutral, attempting to not to think at all. Worrying would achieve nothing. Tried not to think of Col, gravely injured, possibly already dead. Tried not to think…Fuck…where were the damned doctors?

“Ryan?” He became aware of Drew leaning near him, looking like he’d been calling his name for some time.

“Sorry?”

“Is there anyone else we should call? Colin never talks much about his family…”

Ryan shook his head wearily. “Not that I know of. He hasn’t talked to his father since he was sixteen. There’s nobody…I think we’re pretty much all the family Colin has. There are some friends at home he keeps in touch with…I don’t know too many name…I’d guess they’re on his phone.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Drew assured him.

"Colin Mochrie's family?" a soft, tired voice startled the entire group, who'd been half drowsing.

"Yes," Ryan leaped to his feet.

"I'm Dr. Slaungard," he offered his hand. "I presided over the surgery on Mr. Mochrie."

Gripping the doctor’s hand, Ryan feverishly searched his features. "How is he?"

Slaungard grabbed a nearby chair and slumped down into it. "He came through the surgery as well as could be hoped," he stripped the sweat-soaked cap off his head. "He's still in critical condition, of course, but I'm cautiously optimistic."

The collective relieved sigh filled the cubicle. "Thank you, Lord," Wayne whispered.

Leaning forward, Slaungard ran a hand through his hair. "He's not out of the woods yet. Not by a long shot. He has a number of very serious injuries…"

"What injuries?" Drew ventured.

Dr. Slaugard held out his hand, counting on his fingers. "Both his spleen and gall bladder were ruptured and I had to remove them. Not that big of a deal, but he did have substantial internal bleeding. His liver was damaged, we took a small bit out. I think we stopped the bleeding but we'll have to keep a close eye on it. His pelvis was broken in two places, we didn't do anything about that, we'll see how it heals on its own."

"When I saw him," Ryan interjected breathlessly. "He wasn't breathing on his own."

The doctor nodded wearily. "Yes, that's the most life threatening of his injuries. His thoracic diaphragm, the big muscle that separates the thorax from the abdomen and allows you to breath, was severely ruptured."

Ryan tried to suppress his moan, but it must have been audible, for Brad wrapped his hands around Ryan's shoulders and the doctor gave him a quick look of compassion.

"We stitched everything back together, but in order for the diaphragm to heal, we've got the ventilator doing all the work of breathing for him. Hopefully, in a few days, if there are no complications, we can start to wean him off and see how he does on his own."

"Anything else?" Ryan whispered.

"Well, his left ankle is a mess, but the orthopedic surgeon is in there right now finishing pinning it back together." Slaungard scrubbed at his face. "There’s some brain swelling, but as of right now, it’s not substantial, so we’re just monitoring it. There was a significant amount of time before the EMT's got to him after the accident."

"So?" Ryan asked fearfully. 

"His oxygen level was very low from the time of the accident until the EMT extricated him from the wreck. There is a possibility of brain damage."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be able to post this quickly often, but I do have the first 5 or 6 chapters mostly done. So here you go with the next chapter. Sorry its a little short but it seemed like a logical breaking place.

**Chapter 2**

Ryan couldn't wrap his head around the concept. Brain damage? Colin? No, not that quicksilver, bizarre mind…it wasn't possible. But Col was human, just flesh and blood. It wasn't always other people and their families that things like this happened to. Colin had no special immunity.

"He was awake when I saw him before surgery," Ryan put in hesitantly, hoping it was a good sign. "He seemed like he knew who I was.'

"That's good," the doctor grinned tiredly. "His X-ray and CAT scan were just outside of standard norms, so brain damage isn't a certainty only a possibility. I don't like to keep patient's families in the dark." He stood up, arching to stretch back muscles as he did. "You'll probably be seeing quite a lot of me in the next few days. I like to keep close track of my patients."

Ryan stretched out his hand to the doctor. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Slaungard gave his hand a firm squeeze. "I'll have someone take you up to the ICU waiting room. It'll probably be awhile yet before they get him settled in a room, but the family waiting room upstairs is much more comfortable."

________________________________________

He was right, the ICU family room was much more comfortable. Couches, recliners and easy chairs were arranged in cozy little groups, with a few computer workstations and vending machines against the wall.

The small group shuffled in and made themselves at home for another wait, a bit more relaxed now that they knew Colin had made through surgery successfully.  Occasionally one of them would wander off, in search of a restroom, or taking a smoke break.  Ryan considered going out for a cigarette himself, but he didn’t want to be out when they came to say he could finally see Colin again.  His legs bounced up and down in a nervous rhythm.

Suddenly a steaming Styrofoam cup appeared before him.  “Just the way you like it, blonde and sweet.”

Glancing up, he nodded in appreciation at the coffee and the small joke.  “Thanks, Wayne.”

“No problem, man,” Wayne waved the gratitude away.  He motioned to a small table at Ryan’s elbow.  “I picked up some goodies too.  You should try to eat something.  You must be running on empty.  I know I was.”

Listlessly he picked up a bag of chips and began mechanically munching.  The chips tasted like paper, but he forced himself to keep chewing.  Nervous energy could only carry you so far. 

Ryan glanced at his watch. Seven hours, they'd already been here seven hours, it was now quickly approaching one in the morning. "It's getting late. You guys don't have to stay.” he said regardless of how much he didn’t want to be alone. 

A testament to how tired and worried Ryan was, he almost missed almost identical looks of hurt on the faces of his friends. "No, I didn't mean…"

“We all love him too,” Brad blurted to the accompanying nods of the others.  "We’ll stay as long as you and Colin need us."

Ryan realized he was taking on a role that wasn’t rightly his.  He had no more rights to Colin than any of the rest of the guys.  Everyone here loved Colin.  But no, he did have right.  He was as close to family as Colin had.  Colin was his best friend, his potential lover, and he wasn’t going to let go.  Not now, not ever.  “I can’t lose him,” he whispered, feeling his fragile composure start to crumple.  Taking a deep breath, he clenched his jaw, willing himself to pull it together. 

Arms looped around his waist from behind and a stocky body pressed close, "Shhh, it’ll be okay, shhhh.” Drew murmured softly.  “The doctor says he’s got a good chance.  And you’re not alone.  We’ll help out anyway we can.” 

The embrace quickly became a group hug, a small band of friends holding each other for support and comfort. 

“Shit, we still have to finish taping tomorrow."

“Don’t worry about any taping.” Drew assured them.  “And, Ryan, don’t worry about my show either.  We’ll tape around Lewis if we have to.  Whatever we have to do so you can be with Colin, we’ll do.”

Wayne spoke quietly, “We just have to face this one day at a time. One hour at a time if we have to.”  Ryan was reminded that Wayne must have gone through something like this when his father was stricken with cancer.  “Just what's there in front of us. If we start worrying about 'what-if' or 'maybe' we make ourselves crazy and we won't be able to help Colin when he needs us. Deal with what's in front of us and anything else…well, we'll go there when we get there."

________________________________________

Colin Mochrie's thoughts were scattered, elusive, impossible to hold on to for more than a fleeting moment. He was vaguely aware of pain, quite a massive amount of it, actually, but it seemed a long distance away and not worth worrying about at the moment. Voices talked around him, but he couldn't concentrate enough to understand what they were saying. Only word fragments penetrated the porridge in his brain. "Turn….fine…I need…tube…okay…another…pump…roll…"

Hands tugged at him, rolling him over onto his side. He’d never liked strange people touching him but found there was no air in his lungs to protest. Then hands pulled him onto his back, over a huge lump then onto his other side. Trying to prevent any more manhandling, he reached to shove whoever was doing this to him away. Tried to anyway, but found moving his arms as difficult as trying to talk.

_What the hell was going on? Where am I?  I’m getting scared.  Ryan?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Finally, a nurse came to take them to Colin's room. He led them down a hallway, through a wide door, to a sink where they were instructed to wash their hands thoroughly, down another hallway, past a long desk to eventually a stop in front of a windowed room. There they each took their turn at spraying the antiseptic foam on their hands.  The young man poked his head inside the room then motioned them to enter.  “You can all go in now, if you want.  But you have to stay out the way and if you’re told to leave, leave immediately.”

Filled with as many machines as the studio, the room kept from being as cramped due to its unexpectedly large size. Ryan let out a pained sound at the sight of poor Colin, in the middle of all the machines. No matter what a lot of viewer thought, Colin stood a robust 6’2”. Now he looked small and fragile amidst the confusion of wires and tubes.

"Hi, I'm Missy," a tiny, platinum blonde nurse introduced herself. "I'll be his nurse tonight. I've got a couple more things to finish up and then I'll need your help with the admission forms."

Ryan nodded vaguely and forced himself to approach the bed. Lying slightly tilted to his right side, Col was motionless, except for the machine generated raising and falling of his chest.  A pair of very bright paisley patterned shorts - the only thing he was wearing - exposed the tubes going into his shaved chest, the smaller tubes into his left arm and the vast stapled surgical incision that ran from right between his nipples almost to his navel.

“Those shorts are just his style, aren’t they?” Brad tried to smile but it morphed into a grimace.  Ryan heard a distressed noise behind him, turning slightly to find Drew crossing the room, to stare shakily out the windows. "Room’s got a nice view," the shorter man murmured, his face almost as pale as Colin’s.

"How…" Ryan cleared his throat and began again. "How is he?"

Missy glanced up from her work of labeling the lines on the IV pump. Her blue eyes bright with intelligence and compassion, she smiled. "Critical but he's resting comfortably right now. All things considered, he’s doing well.  Of course, he’s very heavily sedated, but he needs that to heal." She motioned at the monitor at the head of Ryan's side of the bed. "His vitals are decent. The top one is blood pressure, which has made me happy and come up nicely."

"100/58, that's kinda low, isn't it?"

"A little, but it looks like he's was in pretty good shape so that may not be far from normal for him. Don't worry if you see it jump up and down some. We're taking the BP off the arterial line, so its real time readings." She pointed at the next line, "That one's heart rate, from the patches you see on his chest. And his heart is bumping along at an almost perfect 68."

The guys shared a look of tiny relief. "What's the next one?"

"Oxygen saturation. The sensor is taped to his finger. 97, 98 is normal but we'd be happy with anything above a 90 considering his condition, so a 93% makes me ecstatic. Don't pay any attention to the bottom two lines, those are just so I can keep an eye on my other patient next door. Go ahead and touch him if you want. He's sedated, but there's a good chance he knows you're all here. Talk to him and touch him, its good therapy for all of you."

"Hey, Col," Ryan leaned close. Mostly obscured by the headgear holding the ventilator tube in place, the precious face was relaxed, the normal pale complexion nearly as white as the sheets he lay on.  Laying his hand on a stubbled cheek, Ryan found his expectation of cool, clammy replaced by warm slightly oily skin. "It's me, Ryan. The rest of the gang is here too, waiting to say hi to you." His throat tightened cutting off any words he might have said.

“Why don’t we let the other’s see him for a couple of minutes, then we’ll let you stay with him awhile.” Drew suggested.

"He's still alive.  Thank you." Ryan whispered, lifting Colin’s limp hand and holding it tightly against his own cheek, not sure who or what he was thanking. 

 

* * *

 

His back against the wall, Ryan waited while the others had their few minutes with Colin.  He took deep breaths, trying to clear his mind.  He had to be strong now, strong enough both himself and Colin.  But he didn’t feel strong at all, he felt more like he would break into a million piece.    

A throat cleared softly near him. "Ryan…"  Brad laid his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. "Wayne, Greg and I are gonna go home. I know you want to stay awhile longer without us hanging around.  Drew said he’d take you home when you’re ready."

“Thanks, guys…I don’t know…”

Turning, Ryan found himself enveloped in Brad's strong arms. "Anything you need, let us know."

"And don't forget to take care of yourself, either," Greg quickly kissed his cheek. "Promise?"

"Promise." Ryan held out his arms to Wayne. "See you guys tomorrow?"

“Drew, we taping tomorrow?  If we’re not, we’ll be back here.”

“I’ve got an idea for tomorrow.  I’ll call you guys in the morning.”

After the gang left, Ryan simply stood at Colin’s bedside, stroking his face and his hands, murmuring inconsequential words, needing to feel the warmth of his skin, the blood still pulsing through his veins.

"Excuse me," Missy grimaced apologetically from his stool at the computer. "There's some information I need to get, for the admission forms."

"Sure," Ryan nodded wearily. "Whatever you need."

Drew pushed the room's visitor chair up closer to the bed, then motioned for Ryan to sit. Smiling in gratitude, Ryan wearily settled himself.

"Full name?" Missy asked.

"Colin Andrew Mochrie."

"Does he have a nickname, another name he’d respond well to?”

“No.” Actually Colin didn’t mind people using ‘Col’, it was Ryan who didn’t like anyone else to use the shortened version of his name.    

“And you are?" The diminutive nurse blushed.  “Sorry…I mean…I know who you are, Mr. Stiles.  And Mr. Carey.  I watch the show all the time. But don’t think everything you tell me will be all over the internet by morning.  Anything you tell me is confidential medical information.  Nothing will go outside this room.” 

Ryan took a small pained breath. "Thank you."

"Are you next of kin?  Partners?  If he's not conscious and needs other procedures, who would be able to sign consent forms?"

"I have full power of attorney."

"You do?" Drew turned wide eyes to him. "When did this happen?"

"After I divorced Pat…well…we both wanted someone we could trust, not just with the business but personal stuff too, to be able to handle things if something went wrong." He took a breath. "Like now."

"So he has power of attorney for you, too?"

"Yup."

"Just a couple more questions," Missy reminded them of his presence. "How tall is he?"

"6'2"

“Oh, I thought…”

“A lot of people do.  That’s only because on the show he’s always standing next to me and I’m 6’6”.

"Does he smoke?"

"He quit about six months ago."

"How about alcohol?"

"He drinks once in awhile but usually not more than a couple at a time. I don't think I've ever seen him falling down drunk."

"Is he allergic to anything? Ever reacted to any drugs?"

The two men glanced at each other and slowly shook their heads. "Not that we're aware of."

"Is he on any medication currently?"

"Nope," Ryan answered confidently.

"How about any significant medical history? Any surgeries, serious illnesses, broken bones?"

"Colin's always been really healthy." Ryan couldn’t suppress a giggle, "Chip broke a bone in Colin’s foot when Chip landed on it making his Superheroes entrance."

"Last question, has he ever been given blood products and if he has, did he have any reaction to it?"

"Not that I know of. Why?"

"His hemoglobin is low, so we'll be giving him a couple of units of blood as soon as it comes up from the blood bank."

"Is that bad?"

"No, after the surgery he had, it would be unusual if he didn't need some blood." Missy smiled. "Now I would suggest just relax for a little while, then go home and get something to eat and as much sleep as you're able."

"I don't know…"

"You'll hear this a lot here, but as hard as it can be to do, you have to take care of yourselves too. You won't be doing him any good by making yourselves sick."  She handed a business card to Ryan.  “The number to my work cell is at the bottom.  You can call anytime, just to check to see how he is. I’m working until seven.  After that, call the desk - that number’s on the card too.  They’ll connect you to his current nurse.” 

“Thanks.”  Ryan turned to Drew with pleading eyes, knowing he sounded like a small child, begging to stay up just a little later, but unable to stop.  "Just a little while longer. OK, Drew? Just a little while."

"Okay, Ryan, a little while longer, but then we have to go take care of ourselves."

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan sank down onto the couch as soon as they entered his house. He didn’t remember ever feeling this exhausted. Running his fingers through his normally immaculate hair, he left his hand gripping a knot at the top of his head. He hadn't felt this dirty and achy since he was a kid working at the fish pier during the day and doing stand-up at night.

"Here." A mug extended across his vision.

Grasping the steaming mug, Ryan brought it to his nose. "Umm, honey lemon. Thanks, Drew."

Drew tried a smile that stopped short of his eyes. "I like it sometimes when I can't sleep."

Ryan knew he could never go into the studio tomorrow and act like nothing had happened. He’d put his game face on before when the last thing he felt like was being funny.  But this time how could he go and make other people laugh when Colin lay close to death? 

"Drew, about tomorrow’s taping…” he started.

“I understand if you want to stay with Colin.  But I was thinking…” Drew lowered himself onto the couch next to Ryan.  “Even if we don’t tape for an actual show, we could do…I don’t know…like a video get well card for Colin.  The audience will be there anyway and we could have whoever wanted…you know….send best wishes or something.”

Ryan nodded thoughtfully, that probably would mean a lot to Colin.  The man had been so bereft of affection for most of his life, affecting his self-confidence and self-image, he had a hard time believing any one cared about him.  A video of people who loved him, could do a lot…if Colin woke up to see it.

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.  Tell you what, I’ll stop by the hospital in the morning and if he’s still stable, I head down to the studio about noon or so.”

“OK, and I’ll spread the word to everyone.”  Drew leaned against the back of the couch, silent for a few minutes.  “Are you sure we shouldn’t call his dad?  I know they don’t get along but something like this…”

Ryan leaped up, sudden fury ripping through him.  Ever since Colin had told him the truth, he’d had the fierce desire to track the son of a bitch down and stomp him into the ground.  “No way, Drew.  We tell that fucker nothing.  And if he did show up, I wouldn’t let him within a hundred yards of Colin.”

“Whoa, calm down, Ryan.”  Drew reached out a hand.  “Colin told me once he’d left home when he was sixteen.  He never told me why though.”

Ryan debated a moment, wondering whether he should tell Drew.  Colin had never asked him not to tell anyone else, had never said it was a secret, but Ryan was sure he was the only one other than Colin who knew the whole story.  Ryan decided it was perhaps something he, Ryan, needed to deal with.

“He didn’t run away,” Ryan flopped back onto the couch, his hand covering his eyes.  “He was thrown away.”

“What do you mean?”

“After his mother died, Colin and his dad never did get along.  I think his dad was pretty emotionally abusive.  You know always putting him down.”

“Cause he was gay?”

“Yeah, though Colin said he wasn’t even sure himself until later.  Anyway when Colin turned sixteen, his old man bought him a train ticket to Vancouver, gave him an address, said some of Colin’s mother’s relatives wanted him to visit, and sent the kid on his way cross country.”

“Okay,” Drew puzzled.  “And he decided to stay?”

“No.  Want to know what he found after he walked five miles to that address his dad had given him?”

“What?”

“A McDonald’s.”

“Wha…I don’t understand.”

“Don’t ya get it, Drew.  There were no relatives in Vancouver.  The son of a bitch made it up and sent a sixteen year old kid across country to meet with no one.  Didn’t just throw him out of the house in a place where the kid had friends and people who might help him.  Threw him almost all the way across the country.  Cause he was gay.”

“Oh, my god,” Drew gasped.  “Poor Colin.”

“So there was this sweet, gentle, innocent kid, in a strange city where he didn’t know anyone.  With all of twenty bucks in his pocket.  At first he thought maybe his dad just got the address wrong.  So he tried to call home.  No one answered.  No matter how many time he tried to call, no answer.  That fucker could have at least been enough of a man to tell the kid the truth, but no, he just let him dangle until he figured it out on his own.”

“Oh my god,” Drew repeated.  ”I can’t imagine…poor Colin.”

“Colin won’t talk about how he survived the first few months.”  Ryan felt a sting at the back of his eyes.  Colin had never talked about it but Ryan had enough of an imagination to have a good idea what a sixteen year old homeless gay kid had to do to survive.  “But somehow he managed not only to stay alive, but he found a job, get his high school diploma while he was still living mostly on the streets and then got accepted into the theater school.”  Ryan had to laugh a little.  “I had all the advantages in the world and dropped out of high school.  Col, who had nobody and nothing but his own wits, managed to get a four year degree.”   

Drew shook his head slowly.  “Well, that explains a lot.”

Resting his head against the back of the couch.  “Yeah, I think that’s partially why he’s so damned shy with people he doesn’t know.  Why he’s crappy at auditions.”

“But when he’s on stage, he just lights up.”

After a long moment of contemplative silence, Ryan breathed out, “I love him, you know.”

“We all love…”

“No, Drew,” Ryan floundered for words that described how he felt about Colin. “I want to lick every inch of him until I wear holes in my tongue.”

“Well,” Drew gaped.  “There’s an image I could have done without.”

Ryan grinned, feeling a little of the somber mood break.  “Then I won’t tell you what else I’d like to do with him.”

 “Please don’t,” Drew grinned back.  ”I guess I can’t say I’m surprised.  I know you were married to Pat, but the way you’re always all over Colin, I didn’t think you were 100% straight.  Does he know?”

“I haven’t told him, but, admit it, I’d been pretty damned obvious this year.  I mean how many letters have we gotten from viewers asking if we’re a couple?  But he hasn’t said or done anything to make me think he feels the same way.”

“Come on, Ryan, the way he looks at you, any fool could see how much he loves you.”

“But ‘in love’ is something entirely different.  Remember what he said when we started the show.  Just because he’s gay, doesn’t mean he’s attracted to every other male on the planet.”

Ryan thought back to that meeting just before they started ‘Whose Line’.  Dan Patterson had been the one to make a big thing about Colin being gay, asking if everyone else was comfortable working with him – as if Colin was the only gay guy in Hollywood.  In his quiet, soft-spoken way, Colin had made it plain he preferred if they didn’t make a big thing of it.  He wanted to be regarded as Colin, not ‘that gay guy’.

“Trust me, Colin is head over heels for you.”

Ryan shrugged, still not totally convinced.  Although Colin usually didn’t back away from Ryan’s overtures, the only real response Colin had given was after the kiss in the Maltese Burger scene.  A tepid ‘It was very nice.  Thank you.’ hardly seemed like the beginning of a grand love affair.  

Drew lean forward, stretching his arms over his head.  “Oh, I had one of the guys go over to Colin’s hotel, check him out and bring his stuff over here. I thought I saw his bag by the door.”

Getting up, Ryan walked over to the entryway to find Colin’s leather carry-on and backpack in the corner by the coat closet.  A box piled with clothes, hangered shirts draped over the top stood beside them.  Colin liked to travel light and kept a stash of street clothes at Ryan’s house, to be used when working in the US.   The carry-on held little more than clean underwear and Colin’s pillow.  He said he couldn’t sleep unless he had his own pillow, so the fluffy, no longer very white, pillow had traveled everywhere with him.

Later, after a quick call to Missy to check on Colin, then changing for sleep, Ryan found himself wearing Colin’s t-shirt clutching Colin’s pillow against his chest. With Drew trailing behind him, he made his way up to the master bedroom.  With only a smartass comment about never having slept with a man before from Drew, the two lay down together, finding enough comfort from the terror of the day from just another warm body close by for exhausted minds to relax and sleep.

 


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Going back to the hospital was one of the hardest things Ryan had ever done and one of the easiest. He ached seeing Colin like that, so still and vulnerable, so hurt. He wanted desperately to help, to heal, but knew his role was/would be minimal at best. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't fix Colin, could do little more than hold his hand and stroke his head.

But as difficult as it was to be with him, it would be impossible to be anywhere else. They were connected, the two of them. Greg had once joked about all the magnets they both must have ingested that kept them from getting too far apart. From the first day he'd met Col, the pull had been there. No way could Ryan leave him alone in that hospital. There was simply no other place he could be.

After a quick breakfast, Ryan and Drew made their way back to the hospital. As they exited on the fourth floor, Ryan felt a slight disorientation. They had been in so many different areas the night before.

Drew pointed at the sign on the wall. "ICU – 4A."

"Oh, thanks." he shared a look. "Let's go see Colin."

They went through the ritual of cleansing and sanitizing their hands.  Ryan tapped on the door to Colin’s room and the young man inside gestured for them to enter. As soon as he stepped into the room, Ryan's eyes went to the monitor. None of Colin’s vital signs had changed significantly from the previous night, he noted with relief.

"Are you his nurse for today?"

"Yup, I'm Damon," the young man grinned brightly. "I'll be here until 7 tonight. Are you family?"

"I'm his partner," Ryan repeated the partial lie. “Ryan.”

“Drew.” Drew approached Damon with an extended hand

“Carey, right?  Damon grasped his hand. Tall, broad shouldered with thick black hair and pretty, pretty eyes, Damon was easily as good looking as any Hollywood star.  “Missy briefed me and I’m a fan of the show too.  You should know there were a few calls last night from reporters but nothing’s been released as far as I know.”

“Hey, Ryan, we might want to have a secret code or something, you know, so the guys can call if they want to but nobody else gets any information.”

“That’s a good idea.”  Drawn to the bedside, Ryan looked down at Colin’s still face. "Hey, Col." He couldn't think of anything else to say. How are you? felt stupid. Obviously not so good. So he contented himself with holding Colin’s lax hand.  Slightly heartened, he realized Colin's skin was now only very pale, instead of the previous night's ghostly white.  

"How was his night?" he asked Damon without taking his eyes off Col.

"Missy said his blood pressure was bouncing around some, but not so much that she needed to give him any meds for it. Other than that pretty stable. Ryan, are you his contact person?"

"Yes."

"Oh, good. Could I get you to write your name and contact number on the board? If we need to get hold of you, it’s easier if it’s on the board than taking the time to look it up in his records."

Picking up the marker from on top of the board, Ryan wrote his name and cell number in large easily legible characters, different from the quick doodle he used for his autograph. He didn't want to think of any of the reason they may need to contact him when he wasn't here. Several other numbers and notations attracted his attention.

"What are these other numbers?"

"Dr. Slaungard, I think you've met him. He comes in afternoons when he's done with his scheduled surgeries." Damon pointed out the numbers. "Annette is his PA, she usually does rounds in about an hour, 8:30 or so. You'll be seeing a lot of Annette. Claudio is the ICU unit doctor. He'll probably be in around 10. This is a measurement for the ventilator cuff, so we know its staying in the right place. The other one's his weight. Every morning at four: weight, blood draw and chest x-ray."

78.47K, Ryan frowned doing a quick calculation in his head. After losing a considerable amount of weight between the first and second seasons, Colin was now a quite slim 172lbs.  Even with a quick recovery they wouldn't be able to prevent him from losing weight on a body that didn’t have a lot of extra reserves.

Damon noticed his concern and point to a large bag filled with yellow fluid on the medical supply cabinet. "We're starting him on TPN, nutritional support, this morning. Not as good as real food, but the best we can do right now."

Moving expertly among all the tubes and wires, Damon grabbed a plastic bag from the wall and a towel from a cabinet then approached the bed. "Excuse me, Mr. Carey, but could I ask you to move to the other side of the bed?"

“Call me Drew,” he requested as he scooted over to Ryan's side of the bed.

Laying the towel on Colin’s chest like a bib, Damon ripped open the bag and arranged the contents on the towel. "Mouth care," he explained. "Ryan, could you hand me the suction, the hose on the wall…the one with the rubber glove over the tip."

Taking care not to touch the tip of the instrument, Ryan gingerly handed it over to the nurse.

"Colin?" Damon leaned close over Colin’s face. "I'm gonna suction out your mouth now." Colin’s head reared back into the pillow when Damon stuck the probe into his mouth. "I know, buddy, I'm annoying the heck out of you but it's got to be done."

Colin swung his head to the side, but Damon was relentless. "Just a little bit more, bud, hang in there a couple seconds and I'll be done. Can't have that bacteria just sitting in there. Pneumonia is the last thing you need."

Ryan didn't know whether to be elated or horrified watching Colin struggling weakly but unable to escape the invasion, impeded by the ventilator hose. Part of him wanted to push Damon away, but another part couldn't help but rejoice at the first reaction they'd seen from Colin since the surgery. Still alive and responding inside that poor battered body.

Anything I can do to help?” Ryan volunteered. He knew standing, watching, totally out of control, would make him crazy in short order.

"Sure." The young man handed Ryan another package containing a green sponge on a stick and a small white packet. "How about brushing his teeth?  There's no trick to it. Normal everyday brushing. Just make sure you get his tongue."

Feeling nervous, stupid and more than a little inept, Ryan spread the white paste on the sponge. "Col, it's me, Ryan. I'm going to brush your teeth now." He tried to copy Damon's matter-of-fact tone, but as soon as the brush touched his lips, Colin jerked his head away. His rejection hurt Ryan’s heart a little, then he realized his mistake.

He leaned closer to his friend’s face, lowering his tone to a near whisper. "It's okay, Col. It's me, I'm here. Just Ry. Nothing to be scared of. I won't let anything hurt you. You can relax. It's okay. It’s Ry."

To his delight, Colin’s eyes cracked open, just enough to show a crescent of chocolate brown. "That's right. I'm here and you're going to be okay."

The Canadian’s eyes fluttered, then slid closed, his body tension visibly slackening. This time when Ryan touched the brush to his lips, he made no protest. Possible even opened his mouth slightly, though Ryan could have been imaging that part.

"Good job," Damon praised. "I'm gonna go pick up the rest of his morning meds and I'll try to scrounge up another chair."

 

* * *

 

 

Throwing his head from side to side, Colin tried to fight off the invader.  _No, I didn’t want that in my mouth.  Don’t make me do this_.  But like so many times before, no one listened to his silent pleas.  Alone in the world, no one gave a damn about what he wanted.  Hopefully he’d at least get a meal out of this, maybe if he was really good, he’d get a night off the street, somewhere warm and marginally safe.

Then a different voice, deeper with a hint of smoker’s rasp.  A voice he trusted, a voice who would never try to make him do anything he didn’t want to do.  Ryan?  Ryan would never hurt him.  Despite his fears, he’d always wondered what it would be like to do this with his tall friend.  Would he be gentle?  What would he taste like?  But he’d never imagined…toothpaste? 

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan was unprepared for the bundle of energy that bounced into the room next. Introducing herself as Annette, the surgeon's PA, she took over command of the room as if she were an arriving general. Damon stood at attention slightly behind her, answering her barked out questions. Ryan risked a glance at Drew, barely restraining his giggles. Annette greatly resembled the patient she was currently examining when he was playing Hollywood Director.

"Sounds decent," the woman pronounced as she moved her stethoscope over Colin’s chest. "Incision looks good. Have you suctioned him this morning?"

"No, not yet."

"Why don't you do it now and see what we get?"

Apparently this was a different kind of suction than Damon had already done. Taking his place at the head of the bed, Damon began snaking a tube encased in a plastic bag down the ventilator tube. "Colin? I'm gonna make you cough now. Can you give me a cough?"

Through his own will or a simple bodily reflex, Colin wheezed more than coughed in response, but Damon seemed pleased with his effort. "Good job, Colin."

Damon might be pleased but Ryan more sickened by the amount of red coming up the tube.

"Is that blood?" Drew choked.

Annette answered briskly, "Yeah. With the amount of bruising in his lungs, it's not unexpected, but I was really hoping it wouldn’t be so red.  We might still have some active bleeding in there."

Ryan studied the PA's face, and saw concern but not an untoward amount. "Bruising?"

"Blunt force trauma. He got walloped but good. The bruising by itself is not that big of a deal, but we have to make sure it doesn't turn into scarring."

"And how do you do that?"

"With a very delicate balancing act, I'm afraid. We can't just treat one injury and forget about everything else. Too much fluid is not good for his lungs which are in moderately poor condition, but if we give him a diuretic to purge fluids, that would stress his kidneys, which are only just holding their own at the present. And his liver is in none too good shape. Right now, I'd like to keep the fluids and meds to the least possible and let his body heal on its own. Support him but keep the side effects to a minimum."

"So we wait?"

Ryan received a smart slap on the back. "Wait, monitor, support. And praying to the deity of your choice never hurt anything."

Not terribly comforted by the words, Ryan sighed.

"Don't get the wrong idea," Annette assured. "I've seen people with much worse injuries recover completely. I think he will too. There are no guarantees in this business but I think he’ll be one of our success stories. But don’t fool yourselves that it's going to be easy or quick. Hang in there for him."

Drew stood taller at Ryan's side. "No way will we give up on him."

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be on vacation starting tomorrow, so there won't be any new chapters until I get back. Hope you're enjoying the story.

**Chapter 5**

By the time they reached the studio, it was nearing their regular taping time.  Ryan opted to stay outside for a cigarette, while Drew went inside immediately.  He found Greg in their usual smoking spot.

“How is he?”

Ryan shrugged, accepting a light from Greg.  “He seemed to have had an okay night, but when they suctioned out his lungs this morning…he’s still bleeding inside.”

“Shit,” Greg shook his downturned head.  “Did you get a chance to talk to his doctor?”

“Not his doctor, but the PA was in this morning.  She still thinks Colin’s got a decent chance.”

“I don’t know what to say, Ry,” Greg sighed, raking a hand through his wavy hair.  “You know…this’ll sound stupid…I used to be so jealous of him.”

“Jealous?”  Ryan couldn’t think of any reason…unless…no, as far as Ryan knew Greg was quite happily married.  “Greg, I didn’t…”

Greg blinked at him in quite comical confusion, then his eyebrows shot up to his hairline, “Not like that, you moron.  Even if I was interested in Colin that way, I wouldn’t even try to get in your way.  Remember when he kissed me in Newscasters?  I thought you were going to kick my ass right in front of the cameras.”

Ryan blushed, remembering the wave of fury that had washed over him when Colin kissed Greg.  He’s wanted nothing more than to wrench the two apart.  “I was supposed to be angry.  That was my character.”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that, big bird.” Greg smirked.  “Anyway, remember when we all auditioned for the show?  Here in the US?”

“Sure.”

“Well, you know, coming from the UK version, I pretty much thought I’d be a shoe-in for a permanent chair.  I was already counting the money.” Greg inhaled deeply on his cigarette.  “Then here comes this chubby, bald guy with big sad eyes and suddenly I’m a second stringer riding the bench.  He had no real experience in television, had only been on the old version for two shows, yet everybody just gushed over how wonderful he was.”

“Greg, I…”

“No, let me finish.  I hated him, really hated him from the time I knew I’d been regulated to rotating fourth chair until we started taping the first show.  But that first weekend…face-to-face…he’s so fucking hard to hate.  He’s just so…so…freaking nice!  Hating him would be like kicking a puppy.”

 Ryan nodded.  From the very first time they’d met, Colin had brought out all of Ryan’s protective instincts.  Quite independent by that time, Colin had still made Ryan want to shelter him from everything the world hadn’t already thrown at the Canadian.

“Any way, even after we’d finished the first season, even if I didn’t hate the man anymore, I was still jealous.”  Greg gave a small self-depreciating smile, “Ego alert.  I wanted to be the center of everyone’s attention like he was.”

“He’s not…”

“Come on, Ryan, have you ever watched the show?  I mean, Wayne may be the musical god, I’m sure he’s got tons of little groupies.  But you and Colin…you two guys, you’re the heart and soul of ‘Whose Line.  Everyone just sits back, holding their breath to see what you’re going to do next.”

Ryan blushed.  “Don’t sell yourself short, Greg.”

“Oh, I’m not…I’m good at what I do.  When the show was broadcast I watched some of the episodes.  And I realized I just wasn’t right for a full-time gig, not here in the US.   My humor can get pretty cutting.”

“Acerbic,” Ryan offered.

“Yeah,” Greg agreed easily.  “A lot of people like that kind of humor, hell, I make a good living on it.  But every week, broadcast into people’s living rooms, it can sometimes come off as mean-spirited.”    

  Raking his hand through his hair, Ryan tried to think of something to say to make his friend feel better.  “Greg, you know…”

“Oh, shut up, you big goof.” With a sardonic smile, the smaller man handed another cigarette to Ryan.  “I made my peace with this last year.  I am who I am and, like I said, I’ve got no problem getting jobs.  We’re just different, that’s all.  I wasn’t right for the part and he was.  Nothing wrong with that.  Not all of us can be as adorable as a certain Canadian. Or want to be.”

They smoked in contemplative silence.

“How are you holding up?” Greg broke the quiet moment. 

“I’m trying to do like Wayne said,” Ryan examined his cigarette.  “One day at a time.  But it’s tough. I think we’re gonna have to dig in for a long haul.  He’s not gonna get better and come home tomorrow.” 

“Don’t try to do it by yourself.  We can keep stuff out of your way so you can spend your time with Colin.”

“Thanks, Greg, I really appreciate it.”

 

* * *

 

 

The studio was filled to capacity as it usually was, but instead of the air of happy anticipation, a more solemn feeling pervaded.  Instead of cheerful chitchat, head-down whispering spread over the room.  Those who knew of Colin’s accident were apparently spreading the information.  The fact that all the performers were loitering on the stage in street clothes clued most in that this was no ordinary taping.    

When Drew entered the stage, the room became quite still.  Hanging his head for a moment to compose himself, Drew cleared his throat and began.  “With the Internet the way it is, some of you may already know, but our fellow performer and very good friend Colin Mochrie was in a serious car accident last night.”  Scattered ‘oh,no’ and a low pervasive moan of distress rose from the crowd.  “His injuries are life-threatening, but he is currently in stable condition.”

Ryan turned his back to the audience, but he couldn’t escape hearing the anguished cries.

Drew continued.  “As you can imagine all of us here are out of our heads with worry for him and couldn’t possibly be funny.  So there will be no show today.  Anyone who wants a refund can see Tony and Lisa at the doors.  But we are planning to tape a ‘Get Well’ card and if any of you want to record a few words for Colin or hopes for his quick recovery, you’re welcome to stay.  Those of you who want to send your best wishes, but don’t feel comfortable being taped, there is also a card by Tony.  Please keep Colin in your prayers.”    

The next few hours passed by in a blur for Ryan.  He was a little amazed, though he really shouldn’t have been considering the amount of fan mail Colin got, by the number of people who wanted to record a get-well wish for Colin.  Of course, all the little gang of performers did, but so did all of the crew.  Especially amazing was Dan Patterson.

Dan: You know I wasn’t very enthusiastic about hiring you for ‘Whose Line’.  I didn’t think that an American audience would accept someone as nonconventional as you into their homes every week.  But I’m here now to admit I seriously underestimated not only you but the American public.  Colin Mochrie, you are a talented and gifted performer, without whom this show wouldn’t be nearly as successful, but you are also the kindest, most thoughtful, genuinely nicest man I’ve ever met.  We need you back.

But the most touching was when a middle-aged man stepped up to the mike with tears streaming down his face.  ”I’d just like to say that the ‘Whose Line’ show got me through some difficult times.  When my partner died, I was pretty depressed.  But just that half hour a week watching ‘Whose Line’, was half hour when I could forget about how unfair the world was, to take him so young.  They say laughter is the best medicine and you made me laugh till tears ran down my face.  Made me feel that maybe my life really was still worth living.  Never underestimate the affect you can have on people by simply making them laugh. Colin, we’ll keep you and your friends in our thoughts and prayers.”

 

* * *

 

 

Amazingly, when Ryan arrived back at the hospital, he found himself alone with Colin. All morning there had been a steady procession of nurses, techs and doctors in to poke, prod, thump and listen to the unconscious Canadian. Now, as Ryan looked around in a little shock, he realized no one else occupied the room. Just him and Col.

"Hey, Col, looks like it's just you and me." He didn't anticipate a response and got none.

He stretched his long legs and back, then leaned close over the bed. "Do you know how much I love you?" he whispered. "No, you probably don't. Cause I never told you, did I? But I do, I love you so much it hurts."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Timing just never seemed right. You were living with Mark when we met. And I still had my head up my ass about who I was and what I wanted.  Even though we were only on that tour together a couple of weeks, I knew you well enough to know you'd never cheat. Once you commit yourself to something, you don't know how to give less than one hundred percent. Next time we saw each other, you and Mark had split up, but I was married to Pat. And you never would have respected, or completely trusted me, if I'd left Pat to throw myself at you." He chuckled softly. "But there were times I wanted to, believe me."

"So I had to try to make it work with Pat. And I did, Col, really I did. I tried so hard. I drew a line between you and I, and worked at my marriage even when it was crumbling around me. So now I have a clear conscience. You weren't the one who broke up my marriage. Pat and I did that."

"So now we’re both free. But I’m still scared. Terrified really. What if you didn't feel the same way? Are you even attracted to me?  Sometime I think I can see it in your eyes, but I’m not sure.  I’ve never been in a relationship with a man.  What if I’m not any good at it?  I’ve read about gay sex but what if I’m a crappy lover?  If we start a relationship, I know you would want to be open about it.  Can I do that?  What would I tell my family?  Would it fall apart the way it had with Pat? I couldn't bear if what we had turned into hate. Or indifference."

Ryan breathed out a huge sigh, laying his forehead against Colin’s bare shoulder.  "But I never thought something like this would happen. I thought we had all the time in the world, to explore, to figure it all out. Everything I was so afraid of seems so stupid now." A tear from his cheek dropped onto Colin’s skin. "I can't stand the thought that I'll never have the chance to say I love you and have you hear it. Even if you don't feel the same. I should have told you, Col, and I'm sorry I never did."

He summoned up a smile. "And if…when you get out of here, I'm going to tell you so often you'll beg me to quit."

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back and here is the next chapter.

**Chapter 6**

Wayne, Brad and Greg approached the area indicated by the man at the tow yard's front desk with trepidation. They didn't really want to see…but there it was in front of them. A Toyota…that would never be driven again. In its present state it barely resembled a car.

"Holy shit," Greg whispered, then Brad added his, "Zounds."

Mashed into a V shape, the major impact directly over the driver's side door, the car sagged pathetically on only two inflated tires. The passenger door hung loosely from its hinges. Every piece of metal crimped or bent in numerous variations, the Toyota looked as if it had been through a demolition derby. Venturing closer, Greg realized the interior was even worse. Where the driver's seat should have been only twisted metal remained, the seat itself flopped over into the passenger area. How did Colin survive, he wondered to himself.

"Well, let's see if there's anything here we can salvage," Greg nudged the others toward the car. "Be careful. Don't cut yourselves."

Slowly, carefully they sifted through the wreckage. Contents of the glove compartment were shoved into the bag Brad had brought without sorting. This seemed like such an invasion of Colin's privacy, none of them wanted to dig any deeper than they had to.

"Here's his sunglasses," Brad announced, holding up cracked frames. "At least what’s left of them."

“And his cap.”  Of all of them, Colin had the easiest time not being recognized if he didn’t want to be.  Cover his shiny scalp and he really did look quite different.  “You sure he had his laptop with him?"

"Pretty sure. We searched the entire studio and Ryan said it wasn’t in the stuff they picked up from his room. It's gotta be here."

"OK, let's look in the trunk, then. Who's got the keys?"

Opening the trunk turned out to be easier said than done. Bent enough to twist the hinges, the trunk hindered all their efforts.

"I don't suppose either of you have a crowbar?" Wayne asked.

Brad patted his pockets while Greg made a show of looking through the bag in his hand.

"I should have known better,” Wayne sighed, “One of us should run up to the office.  They should have something there.”

Greg smirked, "Well, since you’re the youngest and spend hours in the gym…"

Wayne muttered, "Yeah, yeah."

Brad watched him trot off then turned back to Greg. "It's hard to…"

"I know. It makes it feel real. Last night, I just kept thinking…you know, even after seeing him in ICU…I kept thinking Drew’s going to press the buzzer, we can all stop and go back to our seats…"

“Goddamn it, why Colin?  He’s easily the nicest one of us.”

“Well, I wouldn’t like it if it happened to any of us.  But yeah, it just seems worse that its Colin, doesn’t it?  He’s been through so much shit already.  And Ryan was just starting to get his head out of his butt.”

Wayne reappeared with the appropriate tool and with some grunting and groaning soon had the trunk opened enough to see inside.

"Laptop!" Brad exclaimed in delight, then his grin faded. "And groceries."

Pain clutched at Greg's chest. Groceries, such a mundane thing, a normal thing. Buy groceries, go home and cook for a friend. But that meal would never be cooked; the milk exploded out of its carton by the impact, fruit bruised and split open, and a solitary pint of ice cream unopened on top of the mess. A mundane thing for a far from ordinary man with a far from ordinary life. A life unexpectedly interrupted in a single second.

Greg grabbed the laptop bag out of the shambles. "Come on." His voice came out at a near whisper. "We got what we needed."

* * *

 

 

"Okay if I come in?"

Ryan startled, realizing he'd been mesmerized by the minute changes in Colin’s vital signs on the monitor again. It was as if he was connected to the machine himself and each visual change affected his own body.

He swiveled to find Greg peeking his head around the door. "Sure, Greg, come on in."  He extended his arms and the men exchanged a firm hug.

"How's he doing?"

"Okay, I guess. No changes, really," Ryan replied with a small shrug.

"Stable is good," Damon interjected. "This early in the game, stable is really good."

"Oh, this is Damon, Colin’s nurse today. Damon, Greg Proops. He works with us." The two men smiled politely at each other.

Greg winced as he approached Colin’s bed. "God, this is…I don't know what to say. Or what to do."

"Greg Proops at a loss for words, mark this day on the calendar.”  The attempt at a joke gained a slight smirk from Greg.  “I know what you mean," Ryan agreed seriously. He didn't like having to sit back and passively let things happen around him. "Right now all we can do is wait and hope."

"Well, not quite all." Greg handed him a plastic bag and a laptop case. "We got this stuff out of his car. I didn't know if you wanted to take a look at the laptop, but I didn’t want to leave it at the studio. We put everything else we could find in the bag.” 

"His car…"

Greg shook his head. "Totaled. Dan’s got someone working on the insurance and they were sending a claims adjustor to look at it. He also got the local PD to send them a copy of the accident report."

“Dan?”

“He’s actually been a big help, Ry.  He’s been using connections none of the rest of us have to make sure you don’t have to deal with all the details.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows in disbelief.  Even with Dan’s seeming heartfelt tribute to Colin earlier, Ryan had a hard time believing Dan’s turnaround on the subject of Colin.

“Oh, we didn’t touch his stuff in his dressing room.  There wasn’t anything really personal or expensive so we thought it would be best to just leave everything like it is for when he gets back."

"Thanks, Greg. I'm so grateful…"

"Don't worry about it. That's what friends are for, right?"

With a sad smile, Ryan bent to kiss the smaller man’s cheek. "You're a good man, Greg Proops."

Greg frowned, "Thanks, I think." He glanced down at his watch. "I gotta go. Have an appointment down at the blood bank. Most everyone from the show signed up to give blood in Colin’s name.  Let me know if there's anything else you need."

"Thanks, Greg."

“Bye, Col  Get better soon, Ryan misses his better half.”

With Greg's departure, Ryan lowered himself back into his chair. Burrowing under Colin’s lax hand, he laid his own on Colin’s thigh, the smaller man’s hand now resting on Ryan’s wrist, the fingers naturally curling around it. If he kept his eyes on the TV, he could almost pretend they were just relaxing together. On a couch, watching a movie, not surrounded by machines that pumped, beeped, whirred and whooshed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Even though his eyes wouldn't come open, Colin knew Ryan was nearby. The darkness wasn't as bad when He was close. Colin could hear His voice, though the words were garbled and distant. Feel His touch, different from the Others. They touched him and moved him but he could tell when it was His touch on his skin.

Shadowy images lurked in the darkness around him. They would wait for him until Ryan left, then close in. Nightmares of things past and possibly of things to come. Nightmares he couldn't wake from. Until He touched him, talked to him. Even if he couldn't understand the words, His voice was enough to drive the images back.

He wanted to tell Him how grateful he felt for His being there. Tell Him how very much he loved Him and always had. He was the steady presence in his life that kept him from shattering. The one he went to when the emptiness threatened to overwhelm him. He was pure rain to Colin’s parched earth. Now he needed to give back to Him.

Concentrating, he squeezed the wrist under his fingers as hard as he could.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan almost missed the twitch of fingers against his skin. Glancing up at Colin’s face, he saw brown eyes cracked barely open again. "Col?" he said turning slowly so as not to dislodge the hand on his wrist. There again the tiniest of movement.

Damon approached the bed eagerly. "Is he responding?" At Ryan's hesitant nod, the nurse put two of his fingers into Colin’s other hand. "Colin, can you squeeze my fingers?"

Nothing. "Colin?" Damon called louder. "Can you squeeze my fingers, buddy?"

No twitch this time, but a slow deliberate curl of fingers around Ryan’s wrist. Without warning, all of Ryan's hard fought control burst. At this small bit of proof that Colin was still in there, still alive and fighting, he laid his head on Colin’s chest and sobbed for the first time since the ordeal had begun.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The next days passed much as the first. Doctors entered, listened, poked, looked and left again, without much new to say.  The nurses turned Colin every two hours to make sure no pressure points developed. The IV pump beeped when the current med finished as did the machine that dispensed his painkiller. Ryan learned to differentiate between them. He also decided he preferred watching the judge shows over soap operas.  Some of the game shows were fun and he’d picked up some cooking hints from the food network he planned on sharing with Colin .

There were also slight improvements. A little more responsive, Colin moved his hands often, though not always responding to commands. He'd begun to open his eyes more fully when Damon turned him, but they still held no trace of Colness. The ventilator occasionally squawked when he took a deep breath on his own. The blood suctioned from his lungs was now more brownish than red. The respiratory tech turned down the oxygen percent to 45 and Colin seemed to be doing well with the change.

A physical therapist came in the afternoons to do some gentle exercises, trying to keep Colin’s muscles and tendons from losing too much range of motion. Ryan enjoyed helping Eva for it allowed him to feel useful, and he continued to do the exercises multiple times a day.  Of course, touching Colin was never a hardship.

The guys took turns spelling Ryan allowing him to take breaks to go to the restroom, go out to grab a smoke, make phone calls or just to stretch cramped legs without feeling he was abandoning Colin. Ryan felt a bit of a slob, dressed as he was in sweatpants and one of Colin’s tropical shirts which was much too wide in the shoulders and only came down to his hips. He usually like to dress up a bit when he was out in public but he didn't want to waste any of the precious time he could be with Colin thinking about what to wear. Besides he didn't look out of place, comfort took first place here, not style. He'd managed to comb his hair and brush his teeth on a regular basis and it was enough.

 

* * *

 

 

The darkness held shadows, noises he didn't understand…and it hurt! Distant before, now the pain crept into his awareness, stalked him. He tried to shift, to move away from the pain, but nothing he did improved the sensations. Ryan might have been able to help, when he was here it hadn't hurt so bad, but Ryan had left. Left him alone. And scared.

What if someone had taken Ryan away? That didn't seem quite right, but he couldn't steer his pain drenched brain away from the notion. Ryan could be a hostage somewhere…in danger…waiting for someone…to find him…help him. He had to help Ryan.

 

* * *

 

 

Curled up on the couch, with his feet under his butt, Ryan gazed unseeing at the television screen.  Drew sat at the other end of the couch, scarfing down the rest of the take-out he’d brought with him.  Ryan forced himself to eat some, but the food threatened to stick in his throat.   He tried to take some interest in the hockey game playing in front of him.

“You don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to, Drew,” he murmured.

“I know I don’t,” Drew agreed amiably.  He seemed to have made it his business to look after Ryan, making sure he ate, slept and took an occasional shower.  “Got no place else I need to be.” He hesitated a moment.  “Or you want me out?  I can understand if you want some alone time.”

Turning so his back rested against arm, Ryan stretched his long legs out on his extra-long couch.  Covering his eyes with his arm, he replied, “Nah, I start thinking bad things when I’m alone.”

“Okay, you want to talk about it, or should I be a distraction?”

“Tell me he’s going to be okay, Drew.”

“He’s going to be okay.  He’s getting a little better every day.”

“But he still isn’t waking up.”

“They have him sedated, you know that, Ryan. It’s not like he’s in a real coma, he can’t wake up because the drugs won’t let him.”  Drew tried to reason.  “They have to keep him sedated so his lungs will heal.”

“I know, I know.” Ryan took a deep swallow of his beer.  “But when he first came out of surgery Slaungard said he should only be on the vent a couple of days.  It’s been almost a week now and he’s still not breathing on his own.”

“His lungs aren’t bleeding anymore,” Drew countered.  “The stuff they suction out is mostly clear now.”

Ryan conceded that point, “It did look much better this morning.”   

“The doctors aren’t unhappy with his progress.  Annette says…”

“I know,” Ryan interrupted.  “It’s just…I’m scared…I’m just so damned scared all the time.  He opens his eyes…but there’s no…Colin in there.  What if…”

“We’re not gonna play that game, remember?”  Drew abandoned his chair.  Lifting up Ryan’s feet, he planted himself at the other end of the couch.  Strong hands massaged Ryan’s instep.  “I know it’s hard, man, but you gotta keep the faith.  Semper Fi.”

Ryan had to grin.  “Hate to tell you this, Drew, but I’m not now, nor have I ever been a Marine.  I’m just a guy who makes up shit for a living.  But having a bizarre imagination isn’t the best feature to have at a time like this.”

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Drew pulled a disc out of the pocket of his hoodie.  “Here’s something you might like.  We put together a rough cut of a few of the shows this season so far.  Mostly Colin, or you guys together.  Thought you might be getting tired of seeing him in that hospital bed.”

Ryan took the disc hesitantly, feeling truly ambivalent about watching it.  “I don’t know…I don’t want to see some kind of memorial.”

“Think of it more as a reminder of what you have to look forward to when we start shooting again.”

Ryan's cell phone trilled, making them both jump. Pulling it from his pocket and flicking it open, he saw a number he dreaded. "Ryan Stiles. Yes." He listened carefully, his hand creeping up into his hair. "Oh, no…yes, I understand…we'll be right there."

"Ryan, what?" Drew demanded.

"Colin…" Ryan twisted his shaking hands together. "Colin pulled out his ventilator tube."

"Shit!" Drew exclaimed.  He grabbed two coats off the chair where they’d been laid and stuffed shocked arms into one of them. "I'll drive."

 

* * *

 

As soon as they rushed into the ICU, they found themselves herded into an empty room. "He's fine," an unfamiliar doctor kept assuring them. "Really, he's fine now."

“Who are you?” Ryan demanded.

“I’m the lead of this shift in ICU.  Dr. Mattson.”

"Is that his blood?" Ryan pointed a shaking hand at the doctor's lab coat, the white material now liberally spotted with red.

The doctor glanced down with a sheepish grin, "No, I'm afraid that's mine." He touched his nose gingerly. "I got tagged with a flying elbow in the fight. Not sure who's elbow either."

"Fight? What fight?" Ryan demanded, letting all his fear, frustration, and worry turn into anger.  Anger was easier, simpler and didn’t make him want to cry.  "I want to know what happened!"

"At the start of the shift, we decided to try turning down his sedation," the doctor began only to be cut off by Ryan again.

"Why do that? And why didn’t anybody tell me you were going to do that?"

"Like I said we just decided at the start of shift. Using the minimum amount of sedation possible is always in the patient's best interest."

“But I should have been informed.” He hated the thought of anyone doing anything to Colin without his knowledge.  Unconsciously his hands balled into fists.  “Why wasn’t I fucking informed? I’m his medical proxy.  I’m the one who makes the decisions if he can’t.  And he sure as hell couldn’t have consented.”

Flustered, the doctor replied, “We didn’t think of it.”

“Didn’t think of it?!” Ryan’s voice got quieter and deeper as his anger grew.

Tiny Missy, who'd been Colin’s nurse the first night, stepped forward. "It’s my fault.  I stayed with him for most of an hour, but I had to go start meds on my other patient." She brushed a tear from her eye. "He seemed to be resting comfortably, so I didn't ask anyone else to watch him."

"So you screwed up," Ryan accused remorselessly.

"I'm sorry," the young woman implored Ryan, her voice breaking. "He didn't look like he was nearly awake enough to pull out the tube. He hadn't even tried to touch it before. I'm so sorry."

"Sure you're sorry…" Fury drove Ryan forward.  His intimidating height caused the doctor to take a couple of steps back.

Looping an arm around his middle, Drew pulled him back.  “Ryan, take it easy.  C’mon, chill a little.  You can get angry later.  Right now we gotta do what’s best for Colin.  Take a couple of deep breaths, then let’s find out what happened.”

Doing as Drew recommended, Ryan took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  And then again.  He asked as calmly as he could, "So, who can tell me the whole story from the beginning?"

"Umm…well…as I was saying…well, we lowered his sedation…and he woke up more than we expected. He pulled out the ventilator tube when Missy was out of the room."

"And then?"

"The ventilator alarm went off, so it was less than a minute before the team arrived. We tried to reintubate him, but he was very combative. And a lot stronger than he looks, I have to say.”

“Colin?  Combative?” Drew questioned in puzzlement.  “He’s about the least aggressive guy I know.”

Ryan agreed immediately.  “You really have to push him to get him to fight back. Even verbally.  I’ve never seen him even raise his fist to anyone in anger.”

“Sedation drugs can sometimes warp a patient’s perceptions.” The doctor explained.  “Who knows who or what he thought he was fighting.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you turned down his fucking sedation.  If you’d told me, I could have been there.” Pulling himself away from Drew, Ryan crossed the room in two long agitated strides.  “Maybe I could have calmed him down.”   

“You’re right, we should have informed you.” The doctor conceded.  “A familiar voice may…and I stress, _may_ have prevented this.  Anyway, at the time we didn't want to aggravate any of his other injuries fighting with him, so we decided to do an emergency tracheotomy."

"You cut him…" Ryan subsided at Drew's warning stare. "Is that dangerous for Col? The tracheotomy?”

"Not really any more so than translaryngeal intubation, the tube going through his mouth.” The doctor responded confidently, now on surer ground.  “Oh, he'll have a permanent scar, in a fairly noticeable place. And as with any open incision there's a chance for excessive bleeding and infection. Most of the other problems you have with a trach you'll also have with the translaryngeal, such as possibility of damage to the esophagus and vocal chords. With the trach we do eliminate any erosion and damage to his mouth. There are studies that weaning off the ventilator is actually easier with a trach. Some researchers advise doing it with more than three days of intubation."

"Was that a consideration with Colin before?"

"Well, we usually do a trach in the operating room and in his condition sending him back to surgery again wasn't an optimal choice. But now except for the fact that he's such a fighter, we're not terribly unhappy with the outcome."

"You mentioned his other injuries. He didn't…"

"Not that we can tell. A couple of the surgical staples tore a tiny bit, but not enough to even consider replacing them. We turned his sedation back up, of course, and his blood pressure and heart rate went back down to his norm. We've ordered a chest x-ray to make sure he didn't dislodge any of the other tubes, they should be up any minute."

"Can we see him now?" Drew pressed.

"Sure. You may even like the improved view."

As they entered Colin’s room, Ryan caught a sob in the back of his throat.

"Oh, look, Ryan." Drew grinned. "You can see his whole face."

Ryan rushed forward, a beaming grin on his own face.  Without the obstructing tubes and headgear, Colin’s entire face was indeed visible. The ventilator tube now disappeared into an incision in the base of his throat. Indentations from the headgear were still visible on his upper lip and chin.

Ryan leaned over to plop a kiss on his friend's stubbled cheek. "Yeah, I like this view much better, Colin."

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm getting to the end of the chapters I had completed, so I'll be posting on a slower schedule from now on. Don't worry I won't abandon this fic. I have about 80 more pages written, but I have to tie all the scenes together properly.

**Chapter 8**

Ryan settled down onto into a chair by his kitchen table, completely alone now for the first time in days. And he let himself cry. No sobs, just quiet tears of exhaustion and strain, tears for Col, and for himself. Tears for waiting tensely with no end in sight. Tears for missing Colin terribly, even though he spent hours with him every day.  Tears because right here and right now, he didn't have to be strong, not for himself or anyone else.

Slowly the tears dried, leaving his with sore eyes and a clearer mind. One way or another, in the past week, Ryan's frame of reference had shifted. No longer just Ryan watching Colin struggling to heal, they had somehow become _us_ in his mind. _We,_ as in we will get through this. As a teen, he'd been a little disdainful of his Aunt Mary, who'd never used the singular in referring to either herself or Uncle Bud. It had always been we or us. The fact they were married hadn't made them a single person, he'd scoffed. He'd never felt or wanted that kind of relationship with Pat. Or understood it, until now.

It wasn't dependence, not really, Ryan had been independent since he was seventeen. He'd taken life's hard knocks and hadn't yet let them break him. What he had with Colin was more a blending of abilities and weaknesses, strengths and failings to become more together than they could be apart. Alone, they were each good, together they were magic.  Colin had been Ryan’s rock to cling to when he’d been going through the divorce from Pat. So he had been and would continue to be Colin’s. His part now included consulting with the doctors, making decisions Colin couldn't, all in a way he hoped Colin would approve. Colin’s part included healing a little more each day. What Colin needed or would have wanted had become what Ryan needed.

But how would he cope if Colin couldn't do his part? Lurching up off the couch, he shuffled into the kitchen. He shoved a cup of water in the microwave and pulled a tin of herbal tea from the cupboard. He thought about a mind trick his Grandmother Al had taught him. Instead of fretting about an unpleasant circumstances, look at the worst that could happen, analyze it, decide a rational course of action and then let it go.

So…the worst that could happen…Colin would die. No that wasn't really the worst, was it? No, the worst would be that Colin had brain damage severe enough to leave him in a vegetative state. But he knew Colin’s feeling on that. When they had prepared the power of attorney for each other, they had both done medical directives. He knew what Colin wanted but could he do it? Yes, he was strong enough to let his friend go, to set him free. No one wanted to make a decision like that, but he could if he had to.

But the doctors said the chance of that was becoming vanishingly remote. So far, he'd shown no signs of brain damage. So the next worse, he succumbed to one of the hundreds of possible complications. Even the thought of it left Ryan devastated. But he would somehow survive. He might never completely heal, but he would still have the memories of them together. Tears and regrets and memories. 

 _Please God, let him live.  Not for me but for him.  He’s only thirty-four.  He should have so much more life ahead of him.  After all he’s gone through already, he deserves some joy.  I want him to be happy._     

What if he healed but wanted no part of a more intimate relationship with Ryan? Could he settle for what they had right now? If he had to, he could, he decided. After all, hadn't the last year shown him that just being Colin’s best friend could make his incredible happy? And angry and thrilled, and frustrated and delighted. Also he wasn't as completely in the dark about Colin’s feeling for him as he’d let his other friends think. Since his divorce, subtle and not so subtle changes appeared in their outward expression. Hugs and touches had always been part of their rapport, but now the hugs were tighter, the touches becoming more caresses.  Kissing had been added to their repertoire.  Even if the kisses were only on stage, Ryan aimed directly for the lips, not the side of the mouth like most stage kisses. The second time Ryan had kissed him, Colin had seen it coming and made no move to avoid it, he’d even puckered up for Ryan.  He’d caught Colin checking him out more than once and sometime he didn't even try to hide it. Ryan hoped the Canadian had been testing the water, biding his time, until Ryan, so fresh from a divorce, was ready to make the next step.

What if they took that next step and totally mucked it up? God knew, their first attempts at relationships were total disasters. Could he live with another man? In the past, they'd been able to compromise and find rules they both could live with. Could they do the same thing in a more intimate connection? Would the risks be worth the possible rewards?

 

* * *

 

The next day found Ryan back at Colin’s bedside beginning what had become his morning routine. Glancing up at the monitor, he reviewed the numbers and nodded in satisfaction. He hung his coat in the closet, commandeered the rolling table, then started Colin’s laptop booting up. He walked over to the thermometer in its holder on the wall and hit the recall button. 99.2, a little high but not enough to call a fever. Another glance took in the numbers on the white board. Colin’s weight was down more this morning. He'd lost more than ten pounds since the accident, not good but could be worse. His fears allayed for the moment, he moved to the bed to greet Col.

"Morning, sunshine," he kissed the warm forehead.

He gasped when Colin’s head turned toward him and dark brown eyes opened.  Dark brown eyes that focused on Ryan’s face.  Groggy and doped to the gills, but eyes that were intelligent and aware.

“Oh…shit…" Ryan thumped his chest, trying to calm his racing heart. "Hey, Col."

The smaller man’s lips moved as he tried to respond, "Hey."

"I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you again.”  Ryan couldn’t have stopped the huge grin from spreading over his face if he tried.  “How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?"

Ryan read the expressive eyes easily.  _Hurts._

"You're getting quite a bit of pain meds, but I'll talk to the staff and see if we can do something about that. You know who I am, don’t you?"

_Are you kidding?_

"Yeah, I guess you do. Do you know where you are?”

_Confusion._

He grasped his friend’s vaguely wandering hand. "You're in the hospital. You were in a bad car accident and you're in intensive care right now."

_I don't remember._

"That's okay. You don't need to remember. No, don't touch that."

_What is it?_

"You're on a ventilator, Col. The machine is doing most of your breathing for you."

_Fear._

"Relax, it'll be okay. You won’t be on it forever.  It's only until you heal some more."

_Am I?_

"Yes, you're getting better every day."

 _Trust_.

"I'm doing my best to live up to that trust. Getting sleepy again?"

Dark brown eyes blinked slowly.

"It's alright, babe. Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up again."

"You do that very well," Ryan turned to find the surgeon's PA had entered the room while he was talking with Cal. "Read his expressions. You've been together for a long time?"

"I met him about fifteen years ago," Ryan grinned. "But we’ve only been together the last couple of years.  But we’ve always been able to read each other pretty well.  It helps when we’re working."

"You work together?" Eyebrows raised.  “Actors?”

"You don’t know?" Ryan queried.  “Seems like everyone else in this hospital recognized us.”  It was rather refreshing to deal with one of the staff who had no idea who they were.  The additional scrutiny of fans could be difficult to deal with in an already precarious situation.

“Oh, I take it you’re on television.  I rarely turn mine on. After working twelve hours here, it’s nice to have quiet at home.  What show?”

“Whose Line is it Anyway?”

She shook her head.  “Never heard of it.  Game show?”

“Not really.  Drew awards points when he feels like it but the points don’t matter.”

“That’s sounds a bit like a catchphrase.”

“It is.  Drew says it at least once every show.”

“So if it’s not a game show, then what is it, drama, comedy?”

“We do improv comedy.”

“Improv? Don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.”

Ryan remembered the DVD in the pocket of his coat.  It wasn’t that he wanted to be lauded for their talent, but he did want Annette to see Colin as more than just a body in a bed.  To see him as a real person rather than just a patient.

“If you’ve got a minute, I can show you some of our work.”

Ryan quickly found a good Colin moment.  “Here.”

_Let’s go onto a game called Sound Effects.  Colin, you are going to improvise a scene and you’re going to have to respond to sound effects made by Ryan.  The scene is Colin, you’re a teenage boy going on his first prom date.  Remember those days when you had hair and all that._

Ryan loved playing Sound Effects with Colin. They meshed together so seamlessly, each responding to the other’s cues. Oh, there had been a few times they’d crashed and burned, like the Eskimo game, when Ryan couldn’t think of a single good sound effect.  But usually it resulted in the magic playing on the screen before him.

“You rehearse this together, right?” Annette questioned, as she watched, her head tilted.  Her curious look turned into a grin as Colin’s teenage boy proudly discovered the first hair on his chest.

“Nope, when Drew reads the scene off the card that’s the first time we hear it too.  On Friday’s we do a run through but that’s only so we know who’s playing what games and where our marks are.  You know, where we should stand so we’re not out of the camera shot.”

“Then how do you…”

Ryan had heard the question often enough, “We just make it up as we go.  Sometimes I make a sound to give Colin something to react to.  Sometimes he does something I have to guess what he’s doing to make the right sound for it.  Like now.”  Ryan grinned at the scene on the laptop screen.  “I never let the car start, but usually he’ll try to push it first. He surprised me when he got on the bike.”

“But a good choice for a teenage boy,” she mused.  Her grin turned to an outright laugh when Colin sewed up his date’s corsage wound.

_I had to stop ya, because you know, it was getting kinda dangerous.  Don’t want to have the kids at home putting their invisible dates on their invisible bikes, going down invisible hills.  That’s just asking for trouble._

Ryan stopped it there, on the shot of him and Colin back in their chairs, Colin’s head thrown back, wide grin showing his dimples. 

She glanced from the screen to the real man in the bed, her expression thoughtful.  “He’s got beautiful eyes.”

Ryan could only nod, blinking rapidly to control the sting at the back of his own eyes.

"Okay if I come in," Drew appeared in the doorway. "Hi, Ryan."

"He was awake," Ryan informed his friend excitedly.  “Just a little while ago.  It was only for a minute or so, but he was really awake.”

"He was?" Drew bounced up to the head of the bed. "Hey, Colin.  Colin, you awake, buddy?"

Slowly opening his eyes, Colin focused on the grinning face above him. A slight smile curled his lips then he mouthed "Drew”, before his eyes slide closed again.

Drew thumped Ryan on the back, “I told ya.  I told ya he was getting better.”

"So I see we’ve had a good new development?” Annette plugged her stethoscope into her ears.  “I heard he puts up quite a fight for an actor."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Hey, Ryan, can I ask you something?" Drew flopped his tablet down on the ledge by the window.

"Sure. I can't guarantee I'll answer."

"How did you and Colin meet?"

Ryan swiveled in surprise. "I never told you before?"

"Nope.  Colin never said either.  Oh, I know you met on a comedy tour, but that’s all."

"Well, sure, it's no big secret,” he chuckled. “Did he tell you he scared the hell out of me?"

“Colin?  Scary?" He settled down on the second chair by Colin’s bedside.  "So give me the whole scoop."

Ryan grinned. "I’d just turned eighteen and was working at the fish plant during the day, doing stand-up at the club when they’d let me.  I knew I didn’t want to do that the rest of my life.  One of my friends told me about a comedy group at the college doing auditions for a short winter tour.  So I thought it wouldn’t hurt to give it a try.”

_The kid in the back of the theater was staring at him again. In fact, the kid hadn't stopped since he'd flopped down in the chair in the back corner. About the same age as Ryan, good looking in a sullen kind of way, he wore a battered leather jacket over a white wifebeater. His denim-clad legs stretched so far out in front of him, he looked as if he'd slip from the seat at any second. Blonde or light brown hair, depending how the lights caught it, looking as if it had been cut by a weed-wacker, hung long enough to brush his eyebrows. He didn't fit in with the rest of the preppy boys and girls waiting their turn to audition. A bad boy from the wrong part of town invading this collegiate stage._

_Not that Ryan himself fit in all that well, with his well-worn T-shirt and ragged jean.  But he’d made it through the first round of auditions and now stood at the side of the stage waiting for his turn in the next round.  Trying not to look at the back of the theater, he could still feel the kid’s eyes on him.  Not the usual ogling he'd endure in the bar. The kid’s stare stayed glued to Ryan’s face. The kid turned with Ryan’s every move, head bobbing and twisting to keep eye contact. Intense was too mild to describe it. His gaze left Ryan feeling stripped to the bone, naked emotionally and mentally, his every thought and feeling revealed to those dark knowing eyes. Ryan glared back but even though the kid dipped his head slightly, he kept staring._

_Ryan turned back to the stage, trying to concentrate on the other performers, focus on getting himself psyched up for his own performance.  Suddenly the kid stood up from his chair, heading straight for Ryan in a loose, long limbed stride.  Bright, intelligent eyes peered up at him through thick sooty eyelashes._

_“Do you feel it too?” The soft tenor surprised Ryan._

_He could barely answer, the awareness of this young man filling his entire being.  “Yeah,” he wheezed._

_The kid nodded toward the stage.  “Work with me.  We’ll be good together.”_

"He didn't!" Drew whooped in laughter.  “He approached you?  He’s so damned shy, I didn’t think he had it in him.”

"He did!" Ryan affirmed, holding his thumb and forefinger a miniscule distance apart. "I was this close to calling security.  I thought he was some weird stalker or serial killer, or something."

"Well, did you go? On tour with him?" Drew twisted his head to better see Ryan's expression.  "Oh, man, it was love at first sight."

Ryan smiled sheepishly. "Fear at first sight.  Turned out he was the student director, got me a place on the tour.  Three weeks on stage together every night, then we went our separate ways."

“Why?  Why didn’t you keep in touch?”

“Like I said, he scared me.”

“Colin?” the shorter man exclaimed in disbelief.  “Even then you had to know…”

Ryan realized Drew was misunderstanding.  “No, not like that.  Not physically.  Colin would never intentionally hurt anyone.  But I was eighteen and I’d never thought of myself as anything but 100% straight.”

“Oh!”

“Yeah,” Ryan grimaced at the memory of his confused eighteen year old self.  “I’d never even thought of another man in those term, but there he was, with those eyes and those dimples.  He’d smile at me and I’d want to do things that scared the crap out of me.”

“I can understand that.”

“So at the end of the tour, I just went back home.  Didn’t really even say goodbye to him.  Ran like a scared little rabbit.”

Ryan felt the flex of fingers around his wrist. "I think he might be waking up again."

 

* * *

 

 

Time no longer had any bearing on Colin Mochrie. Yesterday, last week, tomorrow, these concepts were meaningless. But as he listened to Ryan's voice, he did remember the day they met. He hadn't meant to scare Ryan, or even intimidate him. But he’d just known the second he’d laid eyes on that tall gangly form, that this was the man for him.

He’d never believed in love at first sight.  He wasn’t even sure he believed in love at all; he’d seen so few examples of it in his life.  But that skinny young man with the sandy curls standing by the stage, lit a fire in him he’d never felt before.  It didn’t matter to him that Mark was waiting for him in the apartment they shared.  He just knew he had to know that young man standing before him.

That compulsion drew him out of his chair and lead him to the taller man’s side.  To this day, he found it hard to believe he’d done that.  He never instigated, never approached, he was too shy, too self-conscious for that.  But with this man, he couldn’t stop his feet from moving him forward.

On the tour, they’d found that Ryan’s natural friendliness softening some of his own natural reserve. Those three weeks spent in close quarters had built a bond of intellect, a balance of viewpoints, a meshing of personality and the beginning of a deep friendship.

He’d been devastated when Ryan had left the tour without even leaving him a phone number.  He tried to tell himself it was all for the best.  Ryan was straight and he himself was already in a relationship.  Then it couldn't be. But now? Maybe…

 

* * *

 

 

That afternoon a whole band of doctors invaded their room. Ryan knew most of them, Dr. Slaungard the surgeon, Dr. Miller from Respiratory, Dr. Claudio, the ICU doctor, and a fourth he'd never met. He watched and waited while each in turn listened to Colin’s chest and belly then as a group quietly spoke medicaleese at each other. He purposely blanked all thoughts from his mind. Just wait…

"Well, Ryan," Dr. Claudio, a tall, slender balding man, finally addressed him. "You are probably wondering what we are mumbling about over here."

He couldn't keep the anxiety from his smile. "Is it something I want to hear?"

His head rocked back and forth. "Possibly. We would like to start doing pressure support trials."

"And that means?"

"Turn off the machine and see how well he breaths on his own."

"That'd be good, right?" he asked with tentative excitement.

"We do have some major concern, so, as you see, the conference."

"What concerns?"

"Well, there was other night’s melee. We may like to see a combative spirit, but to have it present itself as full contact wrestling is not so good. For him or my staff." He returned Ryan's slight grin. "Seriously, it is dangerous from him to struggle so. The repairs are fragile still. The pelvic fractures alone could cause internal bleeding or nerve damage if shifted too much."

"He was awake for a few minutes a couple of times today and seemed calm," Ryan offered.

"This is good. We did turn his sedation down just a little this morning. I am glad to hear he is wakening. But to do the pressure support trial he must be almost fully awake. The Propofol, the drug we're using to sedate him, also suppresses the urge to breath. So we must turn down the drug until he can hear and understand what is happening. So you can see the concern? We have tried to turn down the drug and he fights. Even now his blood pressure is higher than we would like. Why we are not sure. Anxiety? Pain? He should not be in pain."

"But when he was awake this morning, when I asked him if he was comfortable, he said it hurts."

The doctor frowned, "Truly? The fentanyl, the painkiller, is already as a fairly high dose. Did he, by chance, indicate where the pain originated?"

"No," he answered, disappointed in himself for not asking.

"Hmmm, this is not so good. Does he happen to be sensitive to pain, that you know?"

"No, not at all," Ryan responded, thinking of all the times both of them had continued a scene, despite bruises, sprains and collisions, with barely a grimace.

"Pain could explain his reaction to waking up." He gestured to his fellow doctors "Friends, what tests should we order to determine why this good man is in pain?"

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. There was only so much television watching that could be done in a day and he found it difficult to concentrate on the book he’d brought with.  Even though he didn’t much like technology, he was currently trying to answer some email using Colin’s laptop.

A tap on his wrist broke his focus. Looking up, he found Colin’s brown eyes on him again.

"Hey, sleepyhead. You need something?"

Opening his mouth, Colin extended a parched looking tongue.

"Oh, yeah, that doesn't look good." Ryan looked over to today's nurse, an older man with pure gray hair. "Steve, his tongue looks really dry. Is there something I can do?"

Typing commands into his own computer, Steve answered. "Yeah, I think we can. Let me check his orders just to be sure. Just what I thought, he can't drink anything yet, but we can help to wet his whistle, so to speak."

Steve strolled over to the supply drawer and drew out a handful of the familiar green sponges on a stick. Going into the bathroom, he filled a cup with water. "Here ya go. Don't give him too much at a time." He addressed Colin. "No swallowing."

Col only blinked at him owlishly.

"Just wet it down and stick it in," Steve instructed Ryan with a twinkle. "He'll make sure it gets in the right spot."

Soaking the sponge in the cup of water, Ryan laid it on Colin’s tongue. Greedily, he sucked it in, pure bliss on his face.

"More?"

Rolling his eyes, his tongue extended again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Colin opened his eyes slowly, feeling more awake than he'd felt…well, there seemed like there'd been a time when he hadn't been really awake at all but he couldn't recall it at the moment. No matter, not when Ryan's beautiful face hovered right over his. For a moment he marveled at his friend, the perfectly green eyes, wonderfully shaped lips, the flawless sweep of eyebrows. The smile he loved so much. He wanted to kiss those smiling lips but his head resisted his efforts at raising it. He wanted to tell Ryan how wonderful he thought he was, how thankful he was that Ryan was in his life, but found nothing but air coming from his mouth. Well, that's annoying. Before his frustration grew, he realized Ryan wanted him to do something.

"Breathe, Col. Slow, deep breaths. I know you can do it," Ryan urged. "Slow and deep."

Okay, that didn't seem too difficult. Anything to please Ryan. He drew in air, as deep as he could, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in his chest as he got to full inhalation. He let the breath out as slowly as he could.

"That's it. Good job, Col. Keep it up and we'll get you off this damned machine."

With the incentive not only of pleasing Ryan but getting the tube out of his throat, he tried to match his breathing to Ryan’s. In, two, three, four. Out, two three, four. He didn't recall that breathing had been this difficult before. Most of the time, you didn't really think about breathing, did you? You just did it. Why did he have to work so hard at it now?

"Relax," Ry coaxed. "Just breathe, deep and slow. You were in a car accident, remember? You've got to work at getting better."

Car accident? No, he didn't remember that at all. He'd been in the studio…and then…then he had a few very hazy memories of Ryan talking to him, holding his hand and not much else. But Ry said he had to get better, so he had no other choice than to try his hardest. So breathing was the order of the day. In, two, three, four. Out, two three four.

A deep male voice came from over his shoulder, "Volume's over a thousand and his sats are holding up. Doing good."

Colin thought for a moment to see who this new voice belonged to, but he didn't want to lose eye contact with Ryan. He liked pleasing his friend, liked happy Ryan. He'd been sad Ryan when he'd been with that bitch Pat. Colin had hurt with him, but he hadn't known what to do to help, to make him happy again. Not that he'd never made Ryan sad himself. He couldn't quite remember why now, but he knew there was a time he’d gotten scared and had hurt Ryan. Oh, yeah, breathe. For some reason, him simply breathing in and out made the tall man smile now. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.

"You're doing great, Col. Just keep it up, okay."

Okay, breathing. He tried to relax, to focus on Ryan's face and nothing else, but the pain built in his chest and belly. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. He could feel the rhythm want to change, want to get shallower, faster. He resisted. In, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four. He tried to ignore the pain, he'd disregarded pain before, he could do it again. But it was getting harder with each breath. He looked to Ryan with mute appeal.

"Col, where does it hurt?" Ryan interpreted his expression. His hand gently caressed the center of his chest. "Here?"

He nodded slightly. Yes, it does hurt there, but that's not the worst.

His hand slid lower to his belly. "Here?"

He moved his head as hard as he could. Yes, there. Something inside his belly burned. In fact, he was starting to feel very warm all over. Breath, two, three, four.

"He's starting to breathe too fast," the male voice came again. "And his blood pressure is going up again. I'm going to turn the ventilator back on again and turn up his sedation."

Colin reached up his hand, anxious that he'd failed Ryan again.

"It's okay. You did good, Col." Ryan reassured him. "It's hard work, I know. Next time, you'll do even better."

Relieved, he let himself float off into the dark again.

"He did pretty good for his first time," Steve reassured Ryan. "Almost two hours. His volume and rate were good right up until the last few minutes."

"He says his belly hurts," Ryan considered. "Shouldn't the pain meds be taking care of that?"

Steve frowned thoughtfully. "I would have thought so, but he does have a couple fewer organs than he's used to." He grabbed the stethoscope off the IV pole. "Doesn't sound like there's much going on in there, but he hasn't had anything in his stomach for quite awhile. Does he feel warm to you? I'm gonna take his temperature."

Yes, he definitely felt too warm to Ryan. He glanced at the monitor, seeing Colin’s blood pressure gradually ticking down, with the sedation turned on again. Something was not right, something more than his known injuries.

"101.2. You've earned yourself some Tylenol, young man," Steve informed Colin’s sleeping face. He turned to Ryan. "And you get to witness the fever protocol for the first time."

"What’s that?"

Walking over to his computer, Steve quickly clicked and typed. "Blood cultures, throat culture, urine culture. Cultures of anywhere an infection might be forming. We’ll start a new site for his IV, that’s a possible bacteria collector.  Of course, in his condition, a fever might not be indicative of an infection. Might just be a reaction to the trauma. But better to run through the protocol and find nothing than wait. He's very vulnerable to infections right now."

With a sigh, Ryan slumped in his chair. One more thing to worry about, he thought as he absently drew patterns in the hair on Colin’s forearm. If he did have an infection, perhaps that is what is causing the pain and they'll kill two birds with one stone. Dear god, doesn't he have enough wrong with him, without throwing something new into the mix? 

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan managed to smile when Drew entered later that morning to controlled chaos. Lab techs and IV therapy staff scooted busily around the room getting the necessary samples from Col.

"Good morning."

"Morning," the smaller man returned with a frown. "What's going on?"

"Colin’s spiking a fever. They're doing cultures to see if they can identify any infection."

Wiping at the skin beneath his glasses, Drew sighed heavily. "Infection? Christ, Ryan, I thought he was doing so good…"  He continued in a hoarse whisper, "He could still die, couldn't he?"

Ryan's mouth dropped open. How could he confirm something he denied to himself with all his might?

"Yes, he could," Steve, the nurse, took the burden from his shoulders. "He's critically injured and a serious complication could kill him." He moved so he could look directly at the two other men. "He’s not out of the woods yet, but the odds are on his side now. Don’t give up when he’s already come so far."

Ryan scowled in determination, "No way am I giving up on him. Right, Drew? Neither one of us."

"Right," Drew affirmed.

Steve gave a sharp nod. "Good. He's overcome major hurdles to get this far. He's strong and he's a fighter. Even if there is an infection, we've got a lot of weapons to help him. He's got a really good chance to walk out of here on his own two feet."

Steve gave a gruff chuckle. "And, hey, give the man some credit. He just spent two hours breathing entirely on his own."

"He did?" Drew’s serious expression morphed into a grin.

"Yeah, he did," Ryan smiled in return. "He was pretty awake, too."

"And as soon as the vampires stop poking him, I can turn the sedation down a little bit." Steve offered. "Let you say a proper hello to your friend."

"That'd be great!" Drew beamed.

True to his word, as soon as the techs cleared the room, Steve adjusted Colin’s sedation again. Just enough to let him wake up and communicate, but not enough, hopefully, for the pain to return. Leaning back, Ryan quietly watched Colin and Drew communing silently. Well, silently on Colin’s part. Talking a mile a minute, Drew chatted about that day’s taping, when Whose Line would begin taping again and their other friends, all the while clutching Colin’s hand.

"Greg went home Friday but he said he’ll be back in LA next weekend.  He’ll probably be up to see you then.  Brad and Wayne have been doing most of the publicity for the show since you and Ryan are stuck here.  And you should see the boxes of fan mail that are waiting for you!  There’s more mail just for you then all of us got last season together."

Colin’s eyebrow lifted through the beads of sweat starting to materialize on his forehead. _Disbelief_.

"I think his fever's starting to break." Ryan smiled. "Why don't you get a washcloth and wet it down? A little wash down would probably feel good."

 

* * *

 

 

The Whose Line cast minus two sat in their favorite after taping bar, sipping drinks and talking quietly.  Their attitude was much more somber than the last time they’d been here.  

"I don't know how you guys do it," Brad muttered as he returned with a new round of drinks.

What are you moaning about?" Wayne questioned, leaning back in his chair, giving Brad an upside down view.

"All this publicity crap," he grumbled. "You guys make it look so easy.  Twenty interviews in a day and all of them ask the same stupid questions. Radio interviews, phone interviews, TV interviews…How many times can you say the same damned things?  I feel like I’ve just done a thousand takes of the same scene."

"Price of business," Drew yawned. 

"They always want to talk about Colin." Wayne scowled.  “The accident, you know…” The other guys nodded in depressed agreement.  “I don’t know what to say…I’m afraid if I start talking about it I’ll start blubbering like a baby.”

“I did…a little…my voice started breaking…” Drew admitted, his head hung in embarrassment.  “The first time they asked.  Thank goodness it wasn’t taped interview.” 

"Nothing to be ashamed of Drew.  Nobody who knows would think less of you.” Wayne comforted him. 

“Hey, Jeff,” Drew suddenly called.  As one the others turned toward the door to see one of their regular fourth chairs enter.  “I didn’t know you were in town.”

Jeff Davis exchanged hugs with the guys then taking the proffered seat, tucked his long legs under the table.  “Actually, I’ve been in LA about a month.”

“Oh…Oh…well…” Drew shot a quick glance around the table.  “I guess you heard about Colin then.”

Jeff scrubbed at his face with his hands.  “Yeah, Chip called just after it happened.  Said you’d called him and asked him to spread the word to Colin’s friends.”

“Then why…” Drew cut himself off.  “Pretty busy, then?”

“Not really,” Jeff admitted.  “That’s why I stopped tonight.  I thought you guys would probably be here.  I wanted to explain.”

“You don’t need to explain anything to us,” Wayne assured him, although Drew really did want an explanation.  Who wouldn’t visit a critically injured friend?  Or at least give a call to Ryan?

“No, I want you to know,” Jeff rubbed at an eye.  “I wanted to go down there.  Even if all I could do was give Ryan a hug.  But I just couldn’t make myself.”

“Why,” Wayne asked gently.    

"Did you know my brother died, when I was seventeen?"

The guys made noises of sorrow and commiseration. 

"Yeah," Jeff's features tightened. "He was only ten when he was diagnosed with Leukemia."

"Oh, no," Wayne winced.

"Two years it took that damned disease to kill him. Chemo the first five months. In and out of the hospital, mostly in. They got him in remission. Six months, time enough that we thought maybe he'd really beaten it. Then he relapsed.”

Wayne nodded in understanding.  He’d been through much the same thing when his father had been diagnosed with cancer. 

“More hospital stays, more chemo. Then he went in for a bone marrow transplant, we were lucky I was a good match for him.  Lucky?  Maybe not.  Maybe it would have been easier if they couldn’t find a match.  He was in the hospital for the next seven months.  Couldn’t even go out of his room except for tests, cause they’d completely destroyed his own immune system.  He was only twelve…seven months…but it worked…the transplant took and he started to grow his own white cells.  They were talking about sending him to rehab…then he got pneumonia.  A hospital bug that wasn’t sensitive to any of the antibiotics.  And Kevin hadn’t built up enough of his own immune system yet to fight it."

Wayne reached out to touch the other man's wrist. "I'm so sorry."

"I hate hospitals!" Jeff hissed. "I can't go in there…I just can’t…not for anybody…just the smell makes me sick to my stomach…”

"It's okay. We understand. Ryan and Colin would too."

Brushing angrily at his tears, Jeff shook his head. "Maybe this makes me a coward but I couldn't do it again without breaking."

No words could help, so Drew offered what physical comfort he could. The other two looped their arms around the nearest shoulders and together they grieved for the past and the present.  Jeff allowed the hug for a few moments, then retreated.

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat of the roughness.  “How’s Colin doing? How bad was it?”

"Really bad,” Drew responded.  “I talked to the cop who responded to the accident and he said he thought sure he was looking at a fatality." He shook his head as if to shake out bad thoughts. "But Colin made it through surgery. He's damned tough."

Brad hated that he sounded like a six year old asking for reassurance but he couldn't stop it. "You think he's gonna be alright?"

Wayne slumped in his chair. "Oh, god, I think so…I hope so. But when we saw him…they cracked him wide open."

"Takes a licking and keeps on ticking," Brad quoted with a horrible grin.

 "How's Ryan holding up? You went to the hospital this morning, didn’t you, Drew?"

"Yeah I did. As well as can be expected, I guess. He’s exhausted but still hanging in there. They’re letting Colin wake up a little now and I got to talk to him.  I don’t know how much he understood, but he knew who I was.  Of course, he can’t talk back when he’s on the ventilator.  Oh and they had him breathing on his own for a couple of hours."

"That's good news."

"But then he spiked a fever. They're doing a bunch of tests to see if he's got some kind of infection."

"Can't catch a break, can he? This has got to be so hard on Ryan."

"Ryan loves him, you know."  Wayne added.

No one even pretended to be surprised.

"I know. Ryan told me.” Drew admitted, knowing he wasn’t breaking a confidence.  Ryan wouldn’t care if the rest of the guys knew.

“Colin hides it better, but I'm almost sure he loves Ryan too."

Brad summoned up a grin. "You never know, maybe when he gets out of the hospital, they'll stop dancing around each other and actually do something about it."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Ryan wrung the washcloth over the pink plastic basin, then ran it lightly over Colin’s face and upper chest. He'd done it so often now, he'd developed a pattern. Across his forehead, down one temple and cheek, under his chin, up the other side, then a quick swipe at his chest, avoiding the trach and incision. Across, down, under, up, swipe, wring. As soon as he finished one circuit, more sweat erupted.

It had been like this for the last three days. Colin’s temperature would go up, he'd get Tylenol, half hour or forty-five minutes later, he'd start to sweat, the fever would break and his temperature fell. Four or five hours later, when the Tylenol wore off, the cycle started again.

So far, none of the cultures proved positive. No infection could be found, so there was nothing to treat. He saw nothing but puzzled expressions on the doctors. Frustrating for the doctors, for his and mostly for Col.

They'd done more pressure support trials, but Colin couldn't seem to go longer than four hours before his blood pressure started to sky-rocket and his respiratory rate became more like panting. Then they'd knock him out again despite his protests.

A warm hand grabbed his wrist. "Hey, there. Feeling any better?"

_Not really._

"Want me to stop?"

_No, that feels good._

"Okay," he started the movements again. "The doctors are doing the best they can, Col, but they're having a hard time figuring you out."

_Doesn't everyone?_

"You're doing it on purpose, aren't you?" he teased. "You like being the center of all this attention."

_You know better than that._

"I, for one, would like a little boring about now. All this excitement is wearing me out."

_Are you okay?_

"I'm hanging in there."  Ryan wiped the cloth over Colin’s chest, noting the hair beginning to spout where it had been shaved.  “Besides I like spending time with you.  Always have.”

Dipping then wringing out the washcloth once more, he brought it along Colin’s jawline.  "You've got a lot more than stubble now. It's almost a proper beard."

Colin’s hand wandered up to the side of his face, surveying the growth.

"I'm sure we can have someone dig up a razor if you want to shave."

_What do you think?_

"I’m so used to you clean shaving, this is different.  Not bad, it’s actually pretty thick. Maybe we'll just leave it alone. Don't wanna risk you getting any cuts or razor burn." Ryan knew Colin’s skin was quite sensitive.

 _Whatever works for you._ Colin’s hand rose from his face into his sweat-matted, greasy hair. _Itches_.

Ryan ran his fingers through the mess. "I know. I'll ask Damon when he gets back if there something we can do about that."

_Water?_

"Sure." Dropping the cloth in the basin, he switched it for the cup with the green sponge. "Here you go."

_Ooohhh, gooooddd._

He tugged at the sponge. "If you want more, you have to give it back."

_Mischief._

"I'm not going to wrestle you for it," he grinned.

 _Why not?_  Colin managed to grab Ryan’s sleeve and tugged slightly.

"Col," he protested, but let himself be pulled closer. He rose on the balls of his feet, leaning as far over the bed as he could. "Do you want a hug? I know I could use one."

_Come here._

Arranging his hands as carefully as he could, one under his nearest shoulder and the other on his neck, Ryan lowered himself over Colin. The smaller man’s arm lay heavily across his back, pulling him close. He wedged his chin into the crock of Colin’s neck, cheek against cheek. Colin’s other arm rose, his hand tangling in Ryan’s hair. Together they clung as Ryan matched his breathing to Colin’s machine generated breath. He disregarded the sweat that soaked into his shirt, the twinge growing in his back. _Hang onto me, Col, and we'll both get through this. Just hang on._

 

* * *

 

 

Dr. Slaungard and Dr. Claudio stood shoulder to shoulder, staring down at Cal. Two more days had passed with no improvement in Colin’s condition. "You are determined to be difficult, are you not, Mr. Mochrie?"

Colin challenged them back with a sleepy-eyed glare.

Ryan opened his mouth, but Claudio raised a hand. "I think I understand what he would like to say well enough." He lowered himself to sit on the foot of the bed so he could face both Colin and Ryan. "We are in something of a quandary. All of the original trauma appears to be healing at an acceptable rate. Yet you are still in a great deal of pain. We have no explanation for this."

"And the fevers?" Ryan asked.

"Again we have no explanation. All of the cultures have returned negative. His body reacting to the trauma might be an explanation, but the timing is not the norm. The fever should be reducing now, not increasing. No, there is something else. Something we are not seeing. I am sure of it."

Ryan watched for Colin’s reaction.  He was still partially sedated and tended to zone in and out of conversations. Ryan wasn’t sure how much he really understood of this discussion.  "So how do you track it down?"

"First I think we would like to do a CAT scan." He turned slightly to address Colin directly. "It will be quite uncomfortable for you if you choose to remain awake. First we will give you a fairly large amount of contrast dye directly into your stomach. Then you will have to be transported downstairs as this is not something we can do in the room such as the chest X-rays. This will not be easy or comfortable, especially with you still connected to the respirator."

_Let's do it._

"Colin doesn't have a problem with that," Ryan translated.

"If we find something and even if we don't - particularly if we don't," Slaungard spoke for the first time. "We may need to take him back into surgery."

"Surgery?" Ryan gulped.

"There may be something we missed in the original surgery."

"What are the risks of going back to surgery?"

"Substantial." Slaungard acknowledged. "He's still quite fragile. His system wouldn't deal well with any additional trauma."

"It could kill him?"

"Yes." Slaungard pulled no punches. "Even the simplest surgery can be deadly, but in his condition...the odds are in his favor, but not by much."

Ryan struggled to take a breath. "And if we decide not to do surgery?"

"We wait and hope the problem resolves on its own."

"And the odds of that happening are not good," Dr. Claudio added. "It has been more than a week and the pain is only increasing."

Ryan turned to Col. It had to be his call.

_Fear. Hope. Decision. Go for it._

He nodded slowly. "Do the CAT scan. If you think you need to go back to surgery, he's ready for it."

Claudio clapped his hands together. "Very well. We will try to schedule the scan for tomorrow morning. I will be back to converse as soon as see the results."

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Colin floated dreamily above his hospital bed. His painkillers had been increased for his trip downstairs and he was now enjoying the afterglow. Ryan sat beside him dozing in his chair, his expression tired and worried. Ryan didn't seem to have anything in particular he wanted Colin to do at the moment, no breathing or squeezing hands or wiggling toes. So he glanced about, looking for something to amuse himself. Perhaps he could find something that would make Ryan laugh. He loved his laugh.

He vaguely remembered having been told repeatedly he shouldn't be touching all the tubes attached to him, so that was out. Very little else was within reach of his heavily weighted arms.  But no one had said anything about the tape with the little red light currently around his index finger. Laboriously he brought the hand closer to his face, nearly bopping his own nose in the process. He wondered what the red light did. A cord extended from the tape and disappeared somewhere behind him. Why did he need a piece of tape shining a red light through his finger? Using his thumb, he rotated the tape, a little to the left, a little to the right. It didn't seem to be stuck on too tightly. For a few moments, his drugged brain was content to merely twist the tape round in circles.  Twist it right, twist it left, round and round it goes.  Whoops, the pretty red light fell right off his finger, landing somewhere out of his sight.  Underneath the tape his finger looked all wrinkly like he'd been in the bath for hours.

After on a few minutes blissfully tape free, an harsh sound blared behind him. He hurriedly dropped his arm back to his side as Ryan jolted awake. Ryan's head whipped around to stare at something behind him, then whirled back to look at him with anxious eyes.

"Col, are you all right?"

He nodded, attempting confusion and innocence.  Well, mostly pretended, knowing there was some connection between the pretty light and the awful noise but not quite understanding what it was.

It didn't seem to be his best effort, for Ryan’s eyes started to narrow, but the nurse stopped any interrogation by entering the room. "Hey, got an alarm, I hear?"

After silencing the alarm, it only took a second for the young man to find the abandoned sensor. "Here it is. Don't worry, happens all the time, especially when the patient gets to be more active. "Let's just…"

Colin tried to snatched his hand away before the nurse could grab it.  He liked the light but he didn’t like his fingers all wrinkly.  Nor was he fond of strangers touching him at all.  Doing hurtful things to him all day.  He especially hated when they stuck that tube down his throat and made him cough.   

"C'mon, Colin, you need to have an oxygen sensor on," the young man cajoled.

Colin tried the puppy dog eyes trick on Ryan, but Ryan, though his eyes were sympathetic, didn’t seem inclined to help him out.

“How about if I get you a brand new sensor and we put it somewhere out of the way, like on one of your toes?" the dark-haired young man compromised.

Colin acquiesced with a slight nod.

When the man finished tethering Colin back to the machine, he turned to Ryan, "Ryan, I'm gonna get lunch now, so I should be back in about a half an hour. If he gives you any more trouble, you know where the call button is."

"Thanks, Damon."

Colin knew he was in for a lecture by the way Ryan approached his bed, but he could also see the undercurrent of amusement in his eyes. Before Colin could make up his mind if he should try for innocent or contrite, Ryan poked his index finger into his shoulder.

"Listen, buddy, you can't be taking off the equipment. I know you have trouble remembering from one day to the next because of the sedation drugs, but you're gonna try real hard to remember this time, aren't you?"

He nodded, shooting Ryan an exaggerated fear expression.

Ryan attempted to smother his smile and poked him again. "Quit that, I know you're not scared of me. But you can't keep pulling out your tubes, peeling off your patches, picking at your staples and taking off your sensors because you're bored. All you accomplish is making alarms go off."

In apology, he peeled his friend's finger away from his shoulder and tugged it up to his mouth. Making sure he kept eye contact, he pressed a kiss in the center of his palm, allowing just the barest tongue contact. _Forgiven?_

"Hey, Ryan," Greg cried as he pushed through the door causing Ryan to jerk his hand away from his mouth.

_Ouch._

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" the smaller man asked coyly.

"Yeah," Ryan grinned, though his cheeks were unnaturally pink. "Colin is getting in trouble again because he's bored."

"What did he do this time?"

"Pulled off his oxygen sensor."

"Set off all the alarms again, huh?" Greg reached over the bed and pecked him on the cheek. "You’re looking much better than the last time I saw you, Col.”

Last time? Colin pondered.  Hadn’t he just seen Greg this morning at the studio?  And he’d looked no worse than his usual self.  Hadn’t that been this morning?  Or was it a very long time ago?  Time passed very strangely in this place where they held him captive.

“…you gotta stop doing that."

_Wha? Did I admit to anything? And what do you mean again?_

“Have a seat, Greg,” Ryan stood by the bed, stretching and yawning.  "I was just about to do his exercises with him. That'll keep him occupied for a little while.  Colin, you don’t mind if Greg stays for that, do you?"

Colin rocked his head, still puzzled.

"What do you want to do today? Arms or legs?"

He bounced his hands at his side.

"Arms, it is. You remember how to do this?"

He shook his head, not remembering ever doing exercises before.

"That's fine. We'll start out with the easy ones. Left hand first, because I'm already on this side. Make a fist, as hard as you can."

Following Ryan's example, he curled his fingers together. It wasn't terribly fist-like, he'd break all his fingers if he punched someone with it, but Ryan seemed pleased. He reached out to poke Greg in the shoulder, showing him his fist.

"That's good, Col."

Shaking his head, he used his other hand to point at his almost-a-fist, then pointed at their nattily dressed friend.

"Oh, you think I should exercise, too."

He nodded as enthusiastically as he could. If he had to do it, all of them should do it.

Greg obliged with a grin.

"Now extend your fingers all the way. Really stretch them out."

Reaching out, Ryan pressed the pads of his fingers against his, aiding him in his extension.

"Eleven more times. Fist, hold, now extend, hold. That's it, that's good, Col. Maybe I should change careers and become a personal trainer."

Colin would have snickered if he could make any sounds at all.

Finishing with the hand, Ryan led the little class up the arms and into shoulder and chest exercises. Utterly dismayed how a few minutes of exercise that were little more than stretching, exhausted him, Colin struggled to finish the set, his muscles rubbery.

"I think you’ve had enough, huh,Col?"

"Me too," Greg agreed.  “I think I could use a nap now.”

He nodded, feeling himself starting to come down from his painkiller high, the awful burning in his belly reasserting itself. A nap sounded just right.

 

* * *

 

 

Later in the afternoon, Dr. Slaungard arrived. Ryan searched his features for good news and found nothing. He had told Greg earlier in the day about the possibility of more surgery and the man now stood supportively beside him..

"We didn't see anything definite on the scan that would explain his symptoms." He skipped small talk to get straight to the issue. "I don't think we have much choice but to go back into surgery."

"Fuck," Greg cursed.

"Is that your opinion as a surgeon?" Ryan asked gently. "Where's Dr. Claudio?"

"Day off." The doctor didn't take offense. "Surgeons do tend to want to solve problems surgically, but I did talk to Claudio on the phone, plus met with the rest of the ICU team and they agree with me. I just really don't see any other option but waiting and that doesn't seem to be working. Also, waiting has a risk of its own. Whatever the problem is it could be causing permanent damage."

"What would Colin want?" Greg whispered.

Ryan glanced at his sleeping face, echoes of pain still creasing his forehead and mouth. "I know, Greg.”  He nodded in cautious decision. "Surgery, it is."

"I have an opening tomorrow afternoon. I'll have my staff get the consent forms ready."

 

* * *

 

 

The day of surgery proved to be a quiet day. Colin slept most of the morning, which both delighted Ryan and made him anxious. Delighted, because asleep he couldn't get into any trouble and he was freed from any worry for the upcoming surgery. Anxious, because his own worry ate at him and there was much he wanted to tell him before they took him away from his again. Perhaps permanently.

No, he couldn't allow himself to think like that. Only strong thoughts today, positive thoughts. Dr. Slaungard would find the issue that was causing Colin’s pain and he could start to really recover. No complications, no bleeding, no problems. This surgery was a good thing, a solution, not a crisis. He kept repeating the phrase to himself.

"You’re going to be okay," he whispered to Colin’s sleeping face.

"He's gonna be okay," Drew repeated. Taping for The Drew Carey Show had been suspended temporarily, allowing Drew to help out Ryan as much as he could.

"Better than okay. The doctors are going to find the problem and fix it."  Greg added.  He had two days until he had to report in for the commercials he had scheduled.

"Yeah, better." Drew shifted to face Ryan. "Still scares the shit out of me."

"Me to," Ryan couldn't stop his shoulders from slumping with the admission. "Me,too."

“It’s gonna be okay.” Greg insisted.

"He's going to be okay," Ryan forced all his determination into his words.

"He's gonna be okay," Drew turned it into a mantra.

Before they were ready, Damon came to tell them that the transport team was on the way. Drew scurried to the head of the bed.

"Hey, Colin," got a sleepy grin. “I just wanted to say you’re one of my favorite guys in the whole wide world.  And when you get out of this hospital, I’ll throw you the best party you’ve ever seen.”

That got him a look of mild confusion and suspicion, but Colin held his arms up and Drew gratefully sank into his embrace, banishing from his mind that this might be the last hug he ever got from him. Colin really did do great hugs. "You're gonna be okay. And I'm gonna be okay. And Ryan's gonna be okay. Okay?"

Colin managed to give a shaky thumbs up. 

When Drew released the embrace, Greg took his place, kissing the side of Colin’s face. "Now don't do anything stupid, you hear me. We'll be right here waiting for you when you get out.  Now Drew and I are gonna take a little walk. I think Ryan wants to talk to you alone. You be good."

Bemused, Ryan watched two of his best friends waltz out of the room. How had they known he had things to say to Colin that were best kept private?

"Hey, Col."

_Hey. What's going on?_

"They going to take you to surgery in a few minutes. Do you remember?"

His face crunched into a frown, then relaxed _. Yeah._

"They're going to find what's causing the pain and fix it." Ryan fervently hoped.

_Good._

Taking his hand, he leaned as far over the bed as he could. "Do you know how much I love you?"

Colin’s eyebrows jumped up, then smoothed into a faint grin. His hands moved about six inches apart.

"No, a lot more than that." Ryan pulled the hand he held to its furthest outreach. "How about this much?"

_Surprise. Adoration_.

"And I'm not fooling myself when I say that I think you might love me too, am I?"

_NO. You are the center of my universe_.

"We're going to make it through this, Col." His hand reached to wipe the tears from his jaw. "You and I make an unbeatable team."

_Bloody right._

The transport team barged into the room. Ryan threw himself down into Colin’s arms as they bustled around, savoring the feel of his warmth.

"Be strong, Col. You be strong and I will, too."

 


	13. Chapter 13

Once more they sat in the surgical waiting room, waiting.  In some ways, it felt as if they were back at the beginning again.  Back to that awful night of Colin’s accident.  The rest of the guys were here again; Drew, Greg, Brad and Wayne. 

Trying to find distraction from the endless waiting, the guys played improv games. Ryan joined half-heartedly a few times, but mostly just listened to the familiar rhythm of good improv.  Until Drew brought the current scene to a screeching halt.

“What am I doing wrong, guys,” the relative newcomer to improv asked.

“You’re thinking too much,” Ryan responded without much thought.  “You’re thinking about what you’re going to say next.  You should be listening to what your partner’s saying.  Listen and watch.”

“But if I don’t think about it, I’ll just stand there and look stupid.  How’s that funny?” Drew complained.  “You guys think so much faster than I do.”

“Not really,” Greg joined.  “Maybe we’re just a little more warped.”

Brad grinned goofily.  “Yup, we’re all little warped in one way or another.  Having no shame, at least on stage, helps too.”

The discussion was interesting, but Ryan couldn't stop himself from wandering over to the monitor to check on Colin’s status.  He knew it was much too early to hope for it to change, but he was compelled to keep looking. Every ten or fifteen minutes found him in front of the monitor again.  When he returned to the space they had taken over, the guys’ eyes met his with a questioning look and he always had to respond in the negative.

Minutes turned into hours and the waiting continued. Ryan laid his head back into the chair, trying to convince his muscles to relax. Starting at his toes, he told them to untense and after some coaxing they obeyed. He moved up, feet, ankles, knees, thighs. Unfortunately, by the time he reached his hands, his toes tightened up again. He finally managed a light doze.

Sometime later, sensing something, his head sprang up. Then he saw him. Dr. Slaungard. A tremulous grin spread over his face. If the doctor had been a soccer player, he would have been the one running around the stadium, his arms aloft, screaming in victory. Score!!

Rousing Drew with one hand, Ryan sat up straighter in his chair. "You found it?" he called as soon as the doctor was close enough to hear without shouting.

"Yes!" Slaungard's grin threatened to cut his face in half. "Little bugger. Thought it could hide from me. But I found it!"

He flopped down next to Ryan, slapping his sweat-soaked cap against his knee. "A tiny little rip in his stomach. Had to be from the original trauma, but it wouldn’t have been bleeding, so we missed it."

Ryan soaked up the doctor's elation. "Just a little rip?"

"Only a couple of centimeters long. But it pierced through his stomach, so stomach acid leaked into his abdominal cavity. That's what was causing his pain and fevers."

"And you fixed it?" Slightly insane laughter wanted to bubble out of his chest.

"Once we found it, only took a couple minute to stitch it up. His abdominal cavity is very inflamed right now, but give it a couple of days and he should be right as rain."

"Oh, thank you, God," someone moaned behind him

The doctor sobered slightly. "I really should have caught it the first time. But it was so tiny and so many other things needed fixing…"

"Doesn't matter," Ryan reassured him. Nothing mattered right now, except Colin getting better.

"Well, I've got another surgery I've got to get ready for. Just wanted to let you know as soon as I could. Oh, and there were no other complications, no excess bleeding, nothing. He came through with flying colors."

Shaking the doctor’s outstretched hand, Ryan pulled Drew into a one armed hug. "Thank you again."

"No thanks needed. Glad to finally fix the problem. He should be back in his room in an hour or so, if you want to wait for him there. He'll probably be pretty out of it for the rest of the day but by tomorrow I expect a great improvement in his condition."

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan arrived at the hospital the next morning to find Colin peacefully sleeping. No lines of pain furrowed his forehead or tightened his lips. He looked the most comfortable Ryan had seen him since this whole thing started.

"How was his night?" he asked in not much more than a whisper. He desperately wanted to talk to Col, but not if it meant waking him from a restful sleep.

"Real good," Damon grinned, keeping his own voice low. "Missy said he barely moved all night and his vitals stayed stable, in normal ranges. Take a look at his oxygen sat."

Ryan glanced over to the monitor. "98?" His eyes flicked between the monitor, Damon's happy smile and Colin’s relaxed face. "He's never been that high. That's really good, isn't it?"

"That's tremendous," Damon's grin widened. "His body isn't using all its energy fighting the pain. I think he's going to start making some real improvements the next couple of days."

Relief flopped Ryan down into his chair. "Oh, I hope so."

"I know how stressful something like this can be for family and friends. I hope you don't mind if I tell you, but you've been a real trooper."

"Have I?" He certainly didn't feel particularly strong. Mostly he felt tired, helpless and out of control. A large, warm hand quickly gripped his shoulder, then left with a soft pat. He smiled up at the tall nurse with gratitude.

"Yes," he nodded emphatically. "You've hung in there with pretty tough circumstances. But I think I should warn you that as he gets better and is able to communicate more, you'll be dealing with his emotional state, too. Don't be too surprised if he gets angry, depressed, frustrated, bored or just about any other emotion. With all the drugs he's getting right now, he hasn't had much of a chance to really understand what's happened to him."

Ryan stared at Colin’s sleeping face thoughtfully. He hadn't considered much beyond the immediate situation, the danger of him dying. Unsure how Colin would respond, he mused on the possibilities. Boredom for sure, they'd already seen that. He’d seen some of the other emotions from Col since they’d become close. 

"I guess I'll go there when we get there."

"Hey, looks like our favorite patient is awake." Damon moved up to the head of the bed. "How are you feeling this morning, buddy?"

Colin’s face screwed up in consideration.

"He's feeling okay," Ryan translated. "Good, in fact."

At the sound of his voice, Colin turned his head, eyes lighting up as Ryan came within his field of vision.

"Good morning, sunshine," he called and one corner of Colin’s mouth quirked up.

"That's great," Damon enthused. "Can you squeeze my fingers? Great, good grip. How about wiggle your toes? I know, the left foot doesn't work very well yet, but you've gotta try. Good, Col."

Colin rolled his eyes.

"You don't have to translate that one for me," Damon quipped. "Okay, I've got some other stuff I've got to do just to annoy you and then I'll leave you alone so Ryan can help you brush your teeth and wash your hair."

_Wash my hair?_

"He really likes the idea of having clean hair."

"It wouldn't be quite the same as having a real shampoo, but I think it'll make your head feel a lot better." Damon grasped the suction on the ventilator tube. "I'm gonna make you cough now, buddy. Can you give me a good, strong cough?"

Colin’s cough still sounded weak to his inexpert ears, but world's better than the previous week. Damon glanced over with a pleased expression.

"That was good, Col. Keep that up we'll get you out of here before you know it."

Damon completed his morning routine with a minimal amount of grousing on Colin’s part. "Occupational therapy dropped this off," he pulled a big red sponge rubber cylinder out of the supply drawer. "Until you get more fine motor control back, this will help you do some things on your own."

Colin and Ryan watched carefully as Damon inserted the handle of the sponge tooth brush into the red cylinder. "It'll make it easier for you to hold onto things. Like your toothbrush. I'm sure Ryan will help you while I go get the hair rinse."

His eye-hand coordination not at its best, Colin needed some help grasping the handle. Once Ryan established his secure grip, he guided it to his mouth. Soon he was enthusiastically brushing away.

"Don't overdo it." Ryan scolded with a grin. "You need some of that enamel."

_Let me alone, I'm having fun._

He smirked back. "You go ahead and have fun then." He walked over to the bathroom to fill his cup with water. "When you're done, you can dip it in here and rinse out a little."

By the time they were done with the brushing and rinsing, Damon returned with the hair rinse. Ryan read the directions: Spray hair. Gently massage hair and scalp clean. No rinsing necessary.

"This looks easy. You ready, Col?"

_No bald jokes, please?_

"Wouldn’t think of it,” Ryan assured him.  “I like you just the way you are.  Now close your eyes for me." When he obeyed, Ryan began spritzing the liquid into his hair. When he felt he done enough, he set down the bottle and began running his finger through Colin’s fine hair. He raked his nails lightly over Colin’s skull in long slow sweeps. Brushing it up from the nape then smoothed it before beginning another long sensuous stroke at the crown of his head. Colin shivered.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Ryan asked, a little breathless.

His eyes fluttered open, dark with pleasure. _More. So good._

Happy to oblige, he resumed his massage.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In memory of my partner 9-21-09. On the night I let you go, I said I’d always love you, babe, and I still do.
> 
> Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal - From an Irish headstone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

In the past two days, Colin had improved so much the doctors decided the time had come to do what they called a trach cap. Not only would Colin be breathing on his own, but a device would be inserted which would allow him to talk again. The trach cap would also allow them to connect him back to the ventilator quickly and easily if he became too tired or distressed to breath on his own. To start, he would be disconnected during the day, then reconnected and sedated at night. Dr. Claudio thought that this would also allow Colin to develop a more normal sleep pattern, for his body to recognize day and night again.

So Ryan stood away from his bed, bouncing with nervous energy, while the doctors and techs worked on Colin’s trach. He desperately needed to hear Colin’s voice again.

"That should do it," Dr. Claudio straightened. "Just cover this with a finger and you should be able to talk again, Mr. Mochrie."

Unconsciously, Ryan pushed his way to Colin’s bedside. Their eyes sought each other out and a smile slowly spread across Colin’s face.

"Ryan." His voice had little power, differing from his normal tone in ways Ryan couldn't quite identify, but the emotion that spread through him at hearing that voice again nearly stopped his own breathing. He loved hearing his name when spoken by Colin.

"Col." His hands fluttered at his side, not sure what to do with them.

Colin’s brows lowered, "All right, Ry? You look…like hell."

His laugh hiccupped into a sob. "Oh, god, Col. I can't…you're…talking and…"

Reaching up, Colin pulled him down into an embrace. His arms under his shoulders and his ear pressed against his chest, Ryan listened to the soft breathing and the rumble of his words.

"Why you…crying, Ry?” There was a momentary pause each time Colin took a breath.  “It's okay. Shhh, don't cry."

"I've missed you so much." He anointed Colin’s bare chest with his tears. "So lonely without you." He realized the truth of his words as he said them. Surrounded by medical staff, supported by true friends, he'd been abysmally lonely, even though he spent the majority of each day beside him. He hadn't appreciated how much he needed him awake, aware and talking.

"I'm here," Colin murmured, one hand weakly stroking his hair, the other spread over the side of his face. "We're together…and it'll be all right. Shhh…no more tears. I'm here." Ryan felt what must be kisses on the top of his head. "We'll be okay."

Raising his head, he looked fully into dark brown eyes. To both of their surprise, he surged forward to kiss Colin fully on the mouth. The smaller man’s lips were dry and chapped, but warm, so warm, tasting of toothpaste and his own tears. He let the kiss linger a moment, felt Colin’s response, then pulled slowly away.

"We'll be okay," he affirmed to Colin’s slow blooming smile.

Neither of them noticed exactly when the medical personnel discretely filed out of the room.

Colin would have been happy to spend the next few hours - hell, the rest of eternity - with Ryan sprawled across his chest, but he could tell the position was becoming uncomfortable for his friend. Reluctantly, he loosened his arms, letting Ryan slide away from him. But he retained eye contact, drinking in his swollen eyes, red blotched skin and leaking nose. Even concerned by the tears, Ryan never looked more beautiful to him.

"Ry, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." He swiped a tissue under his nose. "It's very, very right."

Yes, he could see the happiness in his shining eyes. But he seemed to be missing important pieces of the puzzle. "What's happened?"

Taking a deep breath, Ryan cleared his throat, a multitude of expressions flying across his features. Fear, worry, love, happiness, Colin identified and puzzled over.

"You were in a car accident, Col." Ryan took his hand between both of his own.

Somehow he had the feeling he'd heard those words multiple times before, but he couldn't remember when or where. That disturbed him, for he relied upon his near perfect memory. "Car accident? Bad?"

"Very bad." Fear again.

He didn't want to dwell on how bad, not yet. He didn't want to see that fear on his friend’s face. "I'm in the hospital?"

"Yes," Ryan nodded, daubing at his still leaking eyes. "Almost three weeks now."

Colin could feel his eyebrows shoot up. "Three weeks?" How could three weeks have passed with only a few vague, distorted memories to show for it?

Ryan squeezed his hand. "Three weeks. They had you sedated most of the time. You've had two surgeries, but they think all the major problems are fixed now."

He closed his eyes against the incipient panic. In his head, he heard a patient voice instructing him; breathe, in two three four, out two three four. Instinctually he followed the rhythm. Slow and deep, that's it. His lungs felt inefficient, stiff, but they acquiesced to his will. Slow and deep, in two three four, out two three four.

"Col?" Ryan’s concern sparked across his skin.

When he felt he had his body under control again, he opened his eyes. "Could I have a drink?"

"Well, you're not supposed to drink anything yet, but I can wet your mouth some."

Letting Ryan stick a sponge into his mouth, he savored the wetness on parched tissue.

"Don't worry," he tried to reassured his tall friend when he'd sucked all the liquid he could from the sponge. Pulling huge hands up to his lips, he kissed them, trying to make the lines disappear from his friend’s forehead. His Ryan shouldn't worry like this, especially not about him. "It's just…I don't remember much…anything really."

As a hand caressed his cheek, he realized he had almost a full beard instead of the closely shaven cheeks. Proof time had passed without him being aware.

"You don't remember because of the sedation drugs. The doctors said that was to be expected."

Breathing slow and deep, he stashed the feelings he hadn't the energy to deal with at the moment into a corner of his brain and reached for other concerns. "Are you all right? The rest of the guys?"

"Everyone’s fine, Col." Ryan’s hand stole up into his hair and he barely suppressed a shiver. He loved the feeling of fingers in his hair. "Well, everyone but you and you’re getting better every day."

He let his eyes skate over Ryan’s taut features, taking in the red rimmed eyes, the dark skin under his eyes. "And you? You're tired."

"I think we're on the right road now. You've gotten so much better the last few days."

That was good to hear but "You're deflecting, Ry."

"It's been hard," he admitted. "But I don't want to think about that, right now." His head dipped and he twisted his own, intrigued by the pink stain spreading across Ryan’s cheeks. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

His jaw dropped, "Ryan?"

"I love you," he repeated, turning his face into his palm and kissing it. "Oh, god, I do, I love you."

Wonder seized his soul, quite stunned by the force of the words.

"You don't have to…it's just I've been here…" he stammered. "I think I always have…but you were…then I was…it just never seemed the right time…but I do…and I have…you almost died…oh, god, Col…I almost lost you…I love you so much."

With the lightest pressure, Ryan was in his arms. "I love you," a pressure released from his chest as he said the words he'd despaired of every being allowed to say. "Since the first time I saw you in that classroom. I've always loved you. My Ryan." He pressed fervent kisses unto every patch of skin within his reach. _Please, don't let this be a dream. Please, please_. "My love."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this is a little short and later than I usually post, but I found TV Tropes site and and spent two days reading all the Whose Line stuff. :-)
> 
> And thanks to everyone for their condolences. I have thirty years of great memories together. And as Garth Brooks says
> 
> And now I'm glad I didn't know  
> The way it all would end the way it all would go  
> Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain  
> But I'd have had to miss the dance.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Drew frowned in disappointment when he got to the hospital to find Colin looking like he was still sedated. After Ryan had called with the news that the doctors had done some kind of plug thing and Colin could now talk, Drew had been quite excited to hear the Canadian’s voice as further proof he was improving.  Now he was here and Colin was sleeping.

Leaning against the door, Drew quietly took in the scene before him.  Colin wasn’t the only one sleeping, Ryan sat at his bedside, head at an awkward angle as he dozed, Ryan’s hand spread over Colin’s thigh, Colin’s hand curled around Ryan’s wrist.  They really were quite cute together.

Closer friends with Ryan, Drew had to admit he really did adore the smaller Canadian.  Colin tended to give the impression that he was soft, even somewhat fragile.  The big sad eyes that he often used to his advantage, extended that impression.  Made people want to protect the man, guard him against harm.  But Drew had always thought Colin had a unexpected, just like his physical strength, core of steely emotional strength.  Drew grinned as he remembered his astonishment the first time he’d seen Colin throw Ryan over his shoulder and carry him around the set as if he weighed nothing.  Colin was the only one of the guys who could pick up Drew, even Wayne had failed at that.

Emotionally Colin was well capable of defending himself.  He let most insults just roll off his broad shoulders, but once he’d reached his limits, watch out.  If you stepped over the line, he’d make you pay.  Not like the jabs Drew and Ryan exchanged, Colin could knock you reeling with an unseen hook.  You messed with him at your own risk.     

And if Colin had a core of steel with a soft doughy outside, Ryan was the opposite.  All of Ryan’s hardness was on the outside, with his quick, hot temper and sarcastic jibes.  A shell to protect himself.  Only those few he let close got to see the shy, sensitive man inside.

The two men really were a matched set, opposites in some ways, totally alike in others.  Like most of their scenes, Ryan the leader, but if he faltered, Colin ready to step into the lead until Ryan found his footing again.       

"Hey, Drew," Ryan greeted drowsily, a quirky smile curving his lips.

"Hey," Drew kept his voice quiet in deference to the sleeping patient. "Is he?"

Holding eye contact with that strange little smile, Ryan reached out to shake Colin’s shoulder. "Col. Colin, wake up. Drew is here."

Sleepy eyes blinked open, then Drew was greeted with a wide smile. "Hi, Drew."

His hand fluttered up to his mouth, not sure why hearing Colin’s slightly raspy, slightly different, but instantly recognizable as his, voice again affected him like it did. "Oh…they did…I thought once they let you talk, you wouldn't be able to stop."

"Saving my voice for you."  The Canadian grinned.  “Hey, don’t you…starting crying too.  Why’s everybody crying today?”

“Did you cry?” Drew teased Ryan playfully.

Even now Ryan's eyes glazed with unshed tears. "Yes, I did." There was something else in Ryan's eyes, something that hadn't been there yesterday. A quiet glow. A glow matched in Colin’s sleepy eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Morning found Ryan standing at Colin’s door, scrubbing his hands with the anti-bacterial foam when tiny Missy stalked past him to bang open Colin’s door.

"Stop that right now, Colin Mochrie. I know you have a blood pressure, so just quit messing with the cuff. You don't want me to have to put restraints on you, do you?"

"Kinky.  You'd like that, wouldn't you?" A definite nasty note sounded in Colin’s voice.

"No, I don't want to do that at all," Missy growled. "I'd have to fill out forms. But I will if you don't knock it off." She swiveled toward Ryan with enough suppressed anger to make Ryan jump. "He's cranky this morning." With that Missy stomped off.

Shock still on his face, Ryan pushed open the door. "What did you do to that poor woman?"

"Nothing," Colin grouched.

Ryan suppressed a sigh. Colin being awake didn't mean there were no more mountains to climb or dragons to slay. He'd known Col wouldn't deal well with people physically fussing over him all the time.  He looked around the room for something to help jolly him out of his present mood.

"They took out your arterial line," he gestured at the now bandage covered wrist.

Col poked at the blood pressure cuff surrounding his bicep. "Yeah, but now…I've got this stupid… thing attached to me.  Every fifteen minutes…it cuts off the…circulation…in my arm.  If they can’t be…poking me in person…they do it ….by remote control."

“Poor abused Colin,” Ryan commiserated.  He leaned over the bed bound man and found himself enveloped in a weak hug. 

“I don’t like it here, Ryan,” Colin whispered miserably.  “Take me home.”

“Oh,.god, I wish I could,” Ryan pulled Colin tighter against his chest.  Mornings had proven to be a bad time for Colin.  Still sedated at night, he tended to come out of the sedation confused and upset.  Making it also a bad time for Ryan.  “It shouldn’t be long now, though.  We’ll get you out of here soon.”

He spotted the table he usually used as his work desk now straddled Colin’s bed and a covered tray lay on top.

"Hey, they brought you breakfast," he exclaimed, genuinely excited. Colin’s first meal. Having dropped twenty five pounds from an already slender frame, Colin badly needed real food in his system, not just nourishment through his IV. "What'd they bring?"

"Take a look," Colin grimaced, but a touch of amusement sparkled in his eyes.

He opened the lid and burst out laughing. "Oh, Col…see, the hospital agrees with me."

"Pudding," Colin sneered, trying to hold onto his bad mood. He made the word sound like Poison. "Chocolate pudding!"

"I take it you didn't order this," he said through his giggles.  Of the two of them, Ryan was the chocoholic.  He loved sweets and with his high metabolism could eat pretty much anything he wanted without gaining weight.  Colin preferred salty snacks over sweet and would chose fruit flavored candy over chocolate.

Colin glared. "Would I order chocolate pudding? For breakfast? Hell, would I _ever_ order it?"

"I thought maybe you ordered it just for me," Ryan teased.

The smaller man’s expression softened instantly. "Anything for you. Sorry I’m being...so crabby.  How about a proper...good morning?"

"Good morning, sunshine." Ryan stretched over the bed to press his lips against Colin’s. A gentle kiss, a little shy, sharing more breath than taste. He retreated slightly, then came back for more. Still tentative, searching, expressing feeling not yet fully explored.

"Morning," he murmured against Colin’s lips.

Reluctantly, he straightened, but kept eye contact, letting his expressions tell his friend everything he couldn't say yet and reading his positive response.

He cleared his throat. "What else do they have there beside pudding?  Let’s see.  Here's some applesauce," he displayed for Colin’s viewing pleasure. "And what looks like apple juice."

Colin’s slight good humor vanished.

"What's wrong, Col?" turning serious himself.

He seemed to struggle with himself for a second, a fleeting expression of disgust crossing his face. "I don't think I can…eat it by myself."

Glad Colin wasn't looking at him at the moment, Ryan didn't try to prevent his flash of pain from showing. "Well, we have two option," he said matter-of-factly, determined to allow Colin every ounce of control over the situation he could. "I can help you. Or we can put your handle on the spoon and you can give it a try yourself. Whichever you want to do. Your choice."

"I'd probably make a mess."

"Doesn't matter," he assured him. "You wash."

"Give the nurses something to do, other than stick needles in me," Colin considered. "Let's go for it, okay."

 

* * *

 

 

At lunch time, Ryan, tired, bored and sick of hospital food, decided he deserved a break. A small restaurant he'd noticed a couple of blocks from the hospital had peeked his interest, so he thought he'd give it a shot. He usually didn't care for eating out alone, but he simply had to get away. Scrawling a note on the white board for Colin in case he woke up before he got back, he grabbed his coat and hot-footed it out the door.

In the lobby, just as he opened the door to freedom, he heard his name called. Ignore it, he dearly wanted to just ignore it. But he couldn't make himself, not if it might mean Colin needed him.

"Ryan."

He turned, then his jaw dropped in surprise. "Jeff?"

The tall, slender young man smiled anxiously and held out his hand. "I didn't think you'd stop. Are you mad at me, too?"

He must have walked right by him and not realized it. A familiar face in an unexpected environment. The other guys had told him about Jeff’s reason for not visiting before.

"No, I'm not mad, Jeff." Ryan shook the outstretched hand. "I just didn't see you. Or rather I saw you and didn't realize it was you."

"How is he?"

"Better, much better."

Closing his eyes, Jeff let out a great gasp of air. "You don't know how good it is to hear you say that."

"Listen, I was just going out to get something to eat," Ryan started. "Join me and we can..."

"I'd like that," Jeff grinned hopefully.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

The walk to the restaurant was nearly silent. Slowly Ryan began to relax, glad to be away from the constant noise of the hospital..

"I’m sorry I didn’t visit earlier," Jeffrey's brow furrowed as they sat down at their table. "I should have at least called."

“Don’t worry about it, Jeff.” He nodded at Jeff’s obvious sincerity.  “The guys explained.  I understand.  Especially now.  When Colin and I get out of there, I hope to never see the inside of a hospital again.”

"How is he, really?"

"He's much better," Ryan let out a sigh. "He's not completely out of the woods yet, he's still in ICU, after all, but much, much better. But I won't lie to you, Jeff, he's still very sick."

"He could have died?"

The breath caught in his throat. "The police say he _should_ have died. The wreck was that bad. He's been on the ventilator for over three weeks, they still don't have him completely weaned off."

"Oh, god," Jeff moaned. "I should have…"

"But he's still alive, Jeff," Ryan reached for his trembling hand with his own trembling hand. "And its not like you’re…” Ryan stopped himself from the obvious blunder.  Even though Jeff had only been on set one weekend, he’d melded well with the rest of the troupe.

“It’s not like I’m one of the regulars,” Jeff finished for him, with a slight grin.  “That’s okay, Ryan, I know I haven’t earned my place yet.  I’m still a rookie.”

“I didn’t mean…”

“No, really, Ryan, it’s okay.  I’m not offended.  In fact, you guys have been about the most welcoming of any show I’ve been on.  Which is why I should have at least called.  I just don’t deal with stuff very well.” 

“S’okay,” Ryan picked up his menu, then grinned.  “You can make it up to me by buying me lunch.”

“You’re on.”

After ordering they sat quietly for a moment sipping their beer.  Ryan almost spat out his mouthful when Jeff asked, “So I’ve heard you’ve finally professed your undying love for our sweet Canadian.”

“Who told you that?” Ryan sputtered.

“Does it matter?” Jeff grinned saucily.  “Well, is it true?  Or is he still on the market?  If he is, then I’m gonna go all out for his attention next season.”

“Wha?  I…Oh!”  It took a moment, still trying to clear his throat, for Ryan to understand Jeff’s meaning.  “You’re…”

Jeff answered confidently.  “Gay?  Yup.  Well, on the gay side of bisexual.  I still like to go out with women once in a while.  For variety, you know.”

“Oh, I didn’t know…at least, I wasn’t sure…it’s not good to assume.”

“I’m open to friends and family.  The media, them I like to keep guessing.  It’s like a little game, neither confirm nor deny.” Jeff smiled slyly.  “I like to be a bit mysterious.”

Ryan’s brain slowly led him back to a something Jeff had said a moment ago.  “You hit on Colin?  This year?”  Which meant only a few weeks ago.

“Sure, I did.  I’m gay, he’s gay.  And I love big broad furry chests.  Lickalicious.  Why not give it a shot?”

Ryan gritted his teeth against the image, the young beautiful man across from him and his Colin.  Wrapped around each other.

“Whoa, big guy,” Jeff laid a calming hand on Ryan’s arm.  “Nothing happened.”

“Nothing?” Ryan growled.

“No.  Nothing, more’s the pity,” Jeff attempted to look pitiful.  “Either I’m not at all attractive to him, he’s too infatuated with you to notice anyone else, or the man is oblivious to flirtation. Believe me, I trotted out some of best seduction techniques and he never even blinked.  I felt quite inadequate.”

Ryan mulled it over slowly.  He was fairly sure Colin hadn’t been celibate in the last year, but then, since his divorce, neither had Ryan.  Nonetheless the thought of Colin with another man made Ryan crazy, the thought of Colin with one of their friends was unendurable.  To actually have to see…

“What about you, Ryan?”

“Wha…” Ryan jolted out of his thoughts.  “What about me?”

“You gay?  Bi?  I know you were married.”

Ryan’s brow furrow.  “Bi, I guess.  I didn’t marry Pat to cover up the fact I’m gay.  I did love her at one time.  Or maybe I’m just really slow to figure out what I am.”

“Whatever, man,” Jeff nodded.  “I’ve never been that much into labels.  But you know if you get into a relationship with Colin, he’s gonna want to be open about it.  And the media loves their labels.”

Ryan really hadn’t thought that far yet.  He knew Colin was a strange mixture of being a very private man, but still unwaveringly against hiding who he was.  So no toupees to cover his shiny scalp or dates to hide his homosexuality.  This is who he was and fuck anyone who didn’t like it.

A big part of Ryan wanted to shout his love for the man from the highest rooftops.  But another part was still afraid of other people’s reactions.  His family, casual friends, the press.  He’d heard enough gay jokes, stereotypes, and homophobia to have some idea what he’d be up against.  But it had never been directed at him before, and he wasn’t sure how he’d react when it was.

“I’m not trying to scare you off, Ryan.”  Jeff patted his arm.  “That’s the last thing I want.  But it helps if you have some plan.”

“I know.  Thanks, man.”  Ryan grimaced at his next train of thought.  He really wanted to know but it seems so stupid, so…girly to ask.

Just then the waiter arrived to slid their burgers in front of them.  “Enjoy your meal.”

Taking a minute to fix his burger the way he liked it, Ryan tried to think of a way to word his question, but finally decided to just ask out right.  “You think Colin’s a top or bottom?”

Nearly choking on his sandwich, Jeff burst out laughing.  “You really are a gay virgin, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean by that?” Ryan growled.

“It’s not like Colin’s flying any colors, man.” Jeff explained more at Ryan’s puzzled look.  “You know, blue handkerchief in left pocket for fucker, right for fuckee.  Not that that’s even used everywhere.  Every place can have difference signals, East Coast vs West Coast.  And a lot of guys don’t use signals at all.     

“And you know, preference isn't an unalterable choice. Who does what to whom depends upon a lot of things. Past history between the guys, mood, phase of the moon, liquor intake, etc, etc, etc. A lot of guys go through phases in their lives where they predominantly bottom, then they meet a guy whose ass just begs for it and next thing they know...”

Ryan stared wide-eyed.  “I think I got it.”

Jeff got dreamy-eyed, “The toppest top I ever met was this fragile little femme guy.  He wore makeup and painted his nails. But once in bed he was a complete top, aggressive, wild…”

“All right, I’ve got it!”

Jeff grinned, unrepentant.  “Anyway, back to Colin.  My guess, and I remind you it’s just a guess, is that Colin’s mostly a top.”

“Why you say that?”

“He doesn’t really do the trust thing very easily, does he?”

“No,” Ryan blanched, thinking of some of the things he knew about Colin’s history.  “No, he doesn’t.”

“Believe me, it can be real scary to bottom when you don’t trust your partner.”

“I can understand that.”  Ryan nodded slowly, thinking of the ramification of that statement.   

Jeff looked at him quizzically.  “You mind if I give you a little lecture here.  You know, the gay birds and the bees.”  He laughed a little at Ryan’s reproachful look.  “I know. You’ve been a guy all your life, you don’t need me to tell you about anatomy or anything.  But you were also married.  To a woman.  And you’ve never really been part of gay culture.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”           

“Colin is all guy.  And he’s been trained since birth, just like you and me, to be less emotionally open, less demonstrative than a woman.  Most of us gay guys are every bit as emotionally constipated as our straight counterparts. We’ve all grown up with the same cultural expectations of masculine behavior.  Get into a relationship with Colin and instead of having just one partner being uncommunicative and emotionally stunted, you both are.

”In a relationship between a man and a woman, no matter how liberated or sensitive the participants may be, it’s really, really hard not to act out roles which you've been taught since childhood. You pretty much know what to expect, right?  Those roles are reinforced by every aspect of our society, from television, movies, hell, nearly every commercial.  It’s in all the media.  I'm not saying these roles are right or ordained by biology, just that they exist.  It’s the culture we’ve all been raised in.

“But in a relationship between two men, there are no role models to follow. As gay men, we have grown up to discover that the rules we thought were meant for us no longer apply. So when two men get together, we have nothing to fall back on. We have to make up the rules and roles as we go along. Don’t expect a relationship with Colin to be anything like what you had with Pat.  You expect him to be the little woman, and your relationship is gonna go down in flames.  And so ends the lecture.”

Ryan wasn’t sure if he’d just been condescended to, or not.  “Is this all just to warn me off?  So you can get your hands on him?”

Jeff grinned his fey little smile.  “No, you big goof.  Well, I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed, if he decided he wanted to fluff my garfield, if you know what I mean.” His expression turned serious.  “But I think with Colin, he’s looking for the whole ‘till death us do part’ thing.  I’m not ready for that.  Not by a long shot.  Hell, I’m only twenty-five.  But really, man, I think you want the same thing and the two of you would make a great couple.  And I’d hate to see it fall apart because you expect something he can’t or won’t give you.  I want you both to be happy.”  

Ryan could see the sincerity in the handsome features.  “Thanks, Jeff.”      

"Now how can I make up being such a wuss? And to you. You've been here dealing with this mostly by yourself, haven't you?"

"Not all alone," he denied, though there were days, even with Drew, Greg, Wayne and Brad in and out, unbearably lonely. The pressure of being the one trying to understand all the implications and risks, making all the decisions, strained his internal resources in a way he never would have expected.

"Let me help," Jeff pleaded.

 

* * *

 

 

Still sleeping when Ryan returned, Colin shifted slightly, appearing to be on the verge of waking. Ryan stretched over to kiss his lax lips.

"What am I, sleeping beauty?" Colin blinked his eyes open.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"You've got a visitor."

His brows raised, "Yeah, who?"

"It's me, Colin," Jeff announced from where he hovered in the doorway.

"Jeff?" Surprise and delight flashed across Colin’s face.

 

* * *

 

 

"I'm going to let you talk," Ryan whispered into Colin’s ear.

The two men chatted companionably for a couple of minutes.  Jeff gave Colin a quick synopsis of why he didn’t like hospital and why he was already itching to leave the building.

"So," Jeff shrugged his shoulders, lifting his palms up. "I'm sorry I didn’t come sooner."

Colin let a smile grew slowly across his face. "Should I forgive you right now? Or should there be a penance attached?"

Jeff grinned back in relief. "I'll do whatever you want, buddy. Just ask."

Colin turned serious. "Help the guys look after Ryan until I can get out of here. He’s wearing himself down to nothing."

"You really care for him, don't you?"

"He's a very good friend."

"More?" Jeffrey teased but with a serious turn.

"Not yet." Colin smiled, a bit shyly. "Maybe."

"Yeah, right. But seriously, Colin, I'll do whatever I can for both of you."


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about this chapter. I suck at writing comedy and probably shouldn't have even tried. :-) So I let the guys kiss in hopes you would forgive me.

**Chapter 17**

"Hey, Col, take a look at this," Ryan angled the laptop so he could see the video Ryan had been viewing.

"You're gonna have to get it closer," Colin squinted at the screen. He'd been allowed to raise the head of the bed in the last few days. The first couple of times he'd been a little dizzy, but had adapted quite quickly to his new more upright position.

Ryan rolled the table across his bed and pressed play. "Drew videoed some of the scenes at the Improv Club last night.  I think there’s some good stuff we could adapt for Whose line."

Colin blinked, trying to focus on the small screen. 

"See the woman in the corner…" Ryan stretched and leaned over the bed. "The one in pink?"

He frowned at Ryan’s awkward position. "If we're both gonna look at it, you're gonna have to crawl up here with me."

The tall man straightened in indecision. Spending time cuddled up to Colin sounded like heaven, but... "I don't think I should. It's probably against the rules."

"Live dangerously, Stiles," Colin smirked, using slightly regained arm muscles to scoot himself closer to the rail. "When have you ever cared about the rules?  Besides, what can they do? Throw me out?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Lying here next to me isn't gonna hurt me," he beckoned. "You can stretch out, relax and show me whatever tape you want."

His pleading look conquered Ryan’s feeble resistance. "Alright." He kicked off his shoes. "Can you move your butt over a little more?"

"Anything for you, Ry."

Settling himself against Colin’s warm side, he found it a remarkable comfortable fit. Their shoulders overlapping Colin’s head rested on Ryan’s arm.  Oh, yes, he could get used to this. Pulling the table over their laps, he positioned the laptop so they both could see it. He let video start to play.

"Well, I like the idea," Colin considered after watching the first scene.  “But it takes a while to set up.  Squash it into three minutes and it’s not gonna make sense.”

“You’re right.  Probably work better if we ever go on tour.”

“Tour?” Colin’s eyes lit up.

“Drew really wants to, but Dan doesn’t like the idea very much.  Eventually I think Drew will get his way.”

“Drew usually does.” Colin agreed.

“This next game is something we could use right now, I think.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s good.  What do they call it?”

“Two line vocabulary.”

“I think it’d be better with three people.  With four it got a little chaotic at the end.  Best go rule of three.”

Together they spent an enjoyable two hours, reviewing games they’d been playing for years, thinking of new twists to keep them fresh, new games that could be used in the Whose Line format.  Being early afternoon, Colin was much more alert and engaged as the sedative wore off.  Although his brain was still slower processing ideas than normal, he seemed to have shaken off the depression from this morning.

“They call this one Action Replay.”

Colin laughed, “I can predict what’ll happen with that one.  Wayne and the fourth will come up with some ridiculously physical scene and then us two old guys will have try to replay it.”

“You mean you will,” Ryan grinned back.  “Lord knows, I can’t keep up with Wayne.”   

Colin grimaced a second before he plastered a neutral look on his face.  "If I’m not replaced by then.  Who knows when or if I’ll be able to even walk again."

“You’ll be out of here and walking soon.  I know you will.”  Leaning over, Ryan softly kissed him. "No one can replace you, Col. You're unique."

"Hmmm." Colin turned his face, so Ryan couldn't read his expression. "You know, “ Colin cleared his throat.  “Ah, you know, I seem to remember that you might have…well, said something about you loving me."

Placing his fingers on his chin, Ryan turned that beloved face back towards him. "Yeah. I think I might remember something like that, too. Something like, I love you, Colin Mochrie."

"Uh huh," Colin nodded against his fingers. Ryan grinned a little to see the tips of Colin’s ears redden.  "Is this a 'We've been best friends for years and I like hanging around with you' kind of I love you? Or is this a 'I want to spend every minute with you and do hot and sweaty things together' kind of I love you?"

Not attempting to conceal his reaction to the thought of doing deliciously sweaty things with him, Ryan smiled into his friend’s wide, vulnerable eyes. "Both. I love you every way it’s possible to love another person."

Colin gulped against his fingers. Rolled toward him with a groan, Ryan slanted his head and kissed Colin, his mouth open to graze his tongue along the other man’s lips. Colin opened for him and Ryan felt the wondrous shock of heat and wetness as Colin’s tongue boldly entered his mouth and slipped in a full voluptuous circle around its confines. He followed his lead, returning the intimacy, tasting him, sampling his texture, all sleek and heated, flavored of applesauce. His body came alive with sensation more compelling than any he'd known before.

"Col," he murmured as he pulled back for breath. His own breathing rough and raspy, Colin buried his face into Ryan’s neck.

"We can't," but Ryan didn't stop kissing the side of his face, his neck. "Not here."

"I know," Colin leaned back against the pillows, his finger gently tracing his lips. "Even if we had a little privacy, I don't think I'm gonna be able to do too much more than kiss for awhile."

As much as he wanted to know the full intimacy of being with him, Ryan was more than willing to wait. The freedom to express what he felt and let it show on his face overjoyed him. No more hiding, distracting or distancing. The line was crossed and there was no going back.

Colin’s eyes roamed his face. "I love you, Ryan Stiles. I'm _in_ love with you. No more line to hide behind."

"No more line," he affirmed. New boundaries would be explored and developed, every couple did, but especially true of them. A journey fraught with risk, but promising so much more.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later, Annette, the surgeon's PA entered the room to find them still cuddled on the bed, drowsily watching TV.

"You guys look so cute together." She glanced at the screen. "What you got on?"

“Survivor, I think.”

“Did the TV break?  There’s no sound.”

“It’s more fun to watch it without.” Ryan answered.  “We’ve been making up our own.”

“Ole, Ole, Ole, Lena,” Colin sang his version of the Survivor theme song.

“Tribes, Cooome oooon doooowwwwn,” Ryan an decent impression of Jeff Propst as game show host.  “In this reward challenge you will be competing for these wonderful prizes.  An Artic explorer parka - keep you warm down to forty below.  Ice hockey skates.  And this Canadian Flag.”

“Oh, Canada,” Colin cheered wildly. Or as wildly as he could in his present condition.  Then his arms dropped suddenly.  “Wait a minute, we’re on a tropical island.  It’s one hundred and ten degrees out here.”

“The skates can also be used as a weapon, if any of your tribe members annoy you too much.”

“Oh!” Colin looked shiftily at his invisible tribe mates, plotting their demise.

Ryan continued supplying his friend with cues, reveling in Colin’s wonderfully alert eyes, only forced to stop when he noticed Colin starting to get out of breath.

"You guys are good," Annette shook her head in wonder. "But listen, I've got some good news for you."

That yanked both of Colin and Ryan's eyes from the screen. "What?"

"How would you like to get that tube out of your throat and move into a regular room?"

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Shortly after Annette's announcement a team arrived to relieved Colin of the ventilator tube. Ryan found himself staring out the window, the procedure not one he wanted to witness. He'd seen enough of Colin uncomfortable and in pain. But a bout of harsh coughing turned his head to the group behind him.

"We're all done," Annette declared as she pressed a dressing over the hole in Colin’s throat. "Nice, deep breaths, Mr. Mochrie."

Colin attempted a nod, his face reddened and eyes watering. Ryan made his way through the crowd to his side, Colin’s hand extended to him before he'd made half the journey. He could feel Colin’s effort at suppressing the cough through the tightness of his grip.

"Usually we encourage coughing, but right now it could stress some pretty tender tissue and we don't want to cause any major bleeding." Annette took a peek under the red speckled dressing. "It's looking good right now."

"That's it," Ryan asked, a little amazed. The whole procedure took less than 5 minutes.  “You don’t have to stitch him up or anything?

"Yup, that's it.  Trach wound usually close all by themselves if you don’t disturb them." Annette smiled. "A lot easier coming out than going in. And it looks like you're just about done bleeding. Could you hand me that roll of tape?"

Obediently, Ryan grabbed the roll from the tray. Eyebrows raised, Colin watched the PA struggle with sticky tape and protective gloves.

"I'm the guinea pig for you to practice on." he rasped.

"Shut it," she scowled back, but with twinkle in her eyes. "I'd like to see you try to do this."

"Oh, no," Ryan held Colin’s reaching hand down. "Don't give him any ideas."

"There!" Annette stood back to admire his handiwork. "Now isn't that pretty?"

Colin grimaced as Ryan smiled at the neat dressing now firmly taped to the base of Colin’s throat.

"Wound Care'll be around to check up on it for a couple of days. Try not to get it wet. Oh, and you'll probably wouldn't want to talk too much in the next couple of hours. Your vocal cords are a little bit inflamed. I'll order you up something for that."

"Thanks, Annette," Ryan offered.

"No problem. Transport should be coming sometime this evening to move him. Have fun in your new room."

 

* * *

 

 

"Hey, Colin. Ryan." Drew swept into the room, dropping his backpack into the corner. "How you doing?"

"Notice anything different?" Ryan suppressed his grin.

The smaller man’s eyes wandered the room until they lit on Colin and his equipment. Or lack of equipment. "Colin! You're free!"

And he was, totally free, at least for the moment. No tubes, wires or lines attached to his body anywhere. "Great, huh? They're letting me out of ICU, too."

"Wow, when did this happen? And you're moving to a regular room. That's fantabulis!"

He rushed over to give his friend a hug unimpeded by any medical apparatus. "I knew you'd get better."

"Of course," Colin returned the hug with all of his strength.

"Hate to interrupt," Damon poked his head into the room. "But Bobby and Eva from therapy are here and they've got an idea they wanted to run by you."

"Sure, send 'em in."

Ryan listened worriedly as the pair outlined their plan. Instead of transferring Colin to a gurney for the trip to his new room, the occupational and physical therapists thought he might like to try to stand and swivel into a wheelchair so he could leave ICU upright instead of on his back. Col, of course, was all for the idea, which just compounded Ryan's nervousness. Colin had never been a very good judge of his own limits. Sometimes Ryan wondered if he realized he had limits at all.

But both Eva and Bobby had been working with Colin since the beginning, even when he was deeply sedated. Being professionals, surely they knew what Colin might be capable of. He didn’t want to be the one to take the eager determination from Colin’s face.

"Okay, let's give it a shot."

It didn't take them long to get Colin maneuvered to sitting on the edge of the bed. Face paling, he squeezed his eyes shut. Ryan pressed his shoulder against his to steady him.

"Dizzy?" Eva asked, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around his bicep.

"A little bit," Colin admitted reluctantly.

"To be expected when you've been on your back for so long." She glanced up at the reading on the monitor. "Blood pressure's doing okay, though. Just sit there a couple of minutes and get your bearings while we get everything set up for you."

A wide web belt secured around Colin’s chest, Bobby and Eva took positions on either side of him, each bracing a foot in front of him and arranging the sheet beneath him into a make-shift sling.

"Ryan, come on over," Bobby beckoned him. "You should learn how to do this without hurting him or yourselves. I'm sure he'll be more comfortable with you helping than calling the staff every time he wants to get up."

Gathered in a tight group, Eva started to explain, "Okay, first we're just gonna try standing. If you do okay and feel up to it, then we'll try the swivel. Are you ready to try?"

"Yeah."

"You're not going to let him fall, are you?" Drew interjected nervously.

"Oh, no, we’d never let that happen. See where our legs are?" At Drew's nod, Eva continued. "We've got our legs in front of his knees, so if his legs don't hold him, his knees can't go forward and he'll just sit right back on the bed."

"Oh, okay. Okay, good."

"Good," Bobby smiled reassuringly. "Okay, Col, remember your pelvis was fractured and your ankle is bolted together, so we don't want to put too much stress on them. Use your upper body as much as you can. When you're ready, you're gonna rock forward a couple of times and then push up with your arms and straighten your legs. Keep your head and chest up. Grab onto our arms or shoulders to pull. Ready?"

"Let's go."

Both Bobby and Eva wound their hands around the web belt and sheet sling, while Colin scooted to the edge of the bed. "On your count, Colin?"

Ryan held his breath as Colin counted. One, rock forward and back. Two, another rock, a little farther each way. Three and Colin surged upward.

"Pull your butt underneath you," Eva instructed as Ryan reminded, "Look up, Col."

Wobbly as a newborn foal, Colin stood upright for the first time in a month. Triumph lit his eyes and shone from his beaming smile. Ryan sent a watery smile in return. Drew clapped and whistled ear-piercingly.

"Come 'ere," Colin breathed.

Pushing himself into the small space between the two therapist, Ryan wound his own arms around Colin’s chest. The smaller man transferred his grip to Ryan’s shoulders, turning the needed support into a fierce embrace.

"I won't let you fall, Col," he promised.

"I know, Ry. You never have," he whispered back. "But I think I better sit back down again."

Easing him back to the bed, everyone in the room erupted with cheers.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"Oh, yes, mmmmm, that's it."

"Harder?"

"No, oohh god, that feels sooo good. God, Ryan, keep doing that and I'll be your slave forever."

"Promises, promises."

"I mean it. Just a little lower. Aaahhhh. There! Christ…"

"What is going on in here?"

Ryan peeked around Colin’s shoulder to find Annette in the doorway of Colin’s new room. His regular, non-ICU room. He started to withdraw his hands from under Colin’s newly acquired t-shirt. The nurse had tried to make him wear a hospital gown but he'd flat out refused. Ryan had been forced to make a run to his house or Colin might have made good on his threat to wear nothing but skin. Now sweat pants and t-shirt hung baggily on his diminished frame.

"Just a little bit more, Ry? Please?" He sighed as Ryan softly raked his nails up and down, across Colin’s shoulders and down his spine. Colin’s eyes closed in bliss, he tilted his head toward the PA. "Can't a man even get his back scratched around here without someone butting in?"

"Sounded pretty orgasmic to me." Annette shook his head with a grin.

"Almost as good as," Colin agreed, opening his eyes to give Ryan an impish look, his grin broadening at Ryan’s blush.

"Get a room, you two."

Flopping back against the bed, Colin trapped Ryan's arm, still under his shirt, beneath him. "Well, I just checked into this room and I've got a few complaints for the management."

Annette raised her eyebrows. "Oh, yeah?"

"The service isn't too bad," Colin set his features into a disapproving look. "But the bed is too hard, the décor stinks, I'm not too fond of the midnight and four a.m. wake-up calls. And the food is really, really crappy."

Annette burst out laughing. "Is this what he's always like when he can talk?" She directed her question to Ryan. "We can always put the tube back in."

"Oh, no," Ryan gave his head a violent shake. "Don't even think about it!"

"He likes me better when I can talk," Colin gloated.

"Okay, buddy, since you don't like the luxury accommodations, why don't we talk about what we need to do to get you out of here?"

"You mean, send him home?" Ryan would have bolted upright if his arm weren’t securely caught beneath Col. He'd been practically living at the hospital for so long, the concept of home had almost disappeared from his mind.

"That's exactly what I mean."

"What do I have to do?" Every ounce of Colin’s fierce concentration was now focused on the PA.

"First, we're working on changing all your meds to oral. Once we get that done, we'll have to wait to make sure you're tolerating them well."

"How long a wait?"

"Couple of days. Second, you have to start eating regular food and have a bowel movement."

"What?"

"Bowel movement. You know, poop."

“How does food become poo?” Ryan sang softly.

Colin just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "I know what it means. That's it? That's all I gotta do?"

"Yup. It may not be as easy as it sounds. Your digestive system’s been on hiatus for a month. All the parts have to start functioning again. We're not going to let you out of here until we're sure that what goes in, comes back out. The last thing we want is to send you home only to have you back in a week with an obstructed intestine."

"What are we waiting for? Where's the food?"

"We’ve already have you on a full liquid diet. The next step is to start on soft diet, then unrestricted. You'll have to be careful, not too much at one time, and nothing too fatty. Without your gallbladder, you won't digest fatty food like you could before."

Colin pushed himself upright. "Gallbladder? What happened to my gall bladder?"

"We took it out. Didn’t anyone tell you? Well, you've been pretty sedated, even if you were told it’s not surprising you wouldn't remember. The surgery, the first night you were here, we took out your gallbladder."

He turned to scowl at Ryan. "Took out my gallbladder? What else am I missing?"

"They took out your spleen, too," Ryan ran his hand soothingly across his back. "They were both ruptured and bleeding. They had to come out or you might have bled to death."

Colin chewed it over, clearly confused and disturbed. Ryan could think of nothing to soften the blow. _What else haven't you told me_ , he could clearly see in Colin’s expression. He realized Colin didn't yet have a full comprehension of all that had happened to him. He'd only been totally unsedated for little more than a day. Ryan dreaded the conversation to come.

"Okay," Colin dismissed the subject for the moment, but Ryan knew it was only for the moment. "All I have to do is eat and poop? Then I'm outta here? I can go back to work?"

Annette shook his head, "I doubt you'll be back to work right away. I see rehab in your future. But if your job isn't very active, you could probably go back part-time in two weeks to a month. Depending on how you do in rehab, of course."

"All I do is sit around and make up crap. I had a couple of commercial shoots scheduled, I think. Right, Ryan?"

"Well, let’s see, last year you were almost run over by a tractor when you were shooting the Snack Fairy ads." Ryan reminded him with a poke in the side.

"C’mon, even you never imagined I’d need a stunt double on a Snack Fairy shoot," he protested.

“You’re the Snack Fairy?”  Annette exclaimed.  “Regular guy clothes with a pink tutu?  I’ve seen that.  I thought he was the cutest thing ever.”

“Isn’t he?” Ryan agreed, grinning at Colin’s blush.  “But I think right now, it would be kinda hard for you to be a fish stick.  Or a headless chicken.”

“Fish stick?” Annette frowned in bemusement.

“He had to act out a fish from birth to fish stick in 30 seconds.  He’s also had to do the history of war in 30 seconds.  Oh, and he moonwalks even better than Wayne.” 

“Fish stick!  I’m gonna have to look up this show you guys are on,” she laughed a little helplessly.

Colin grinned but then his face turned sorrowful. "I don't think she's gonna want me to go back to work soon."

 

* * *

 

 

It was here at last, the day Ryan had hoped for and feared would never happen. The day Colin could go home. After his second surgery, he'd improved so quickly even the doctors were impressed. So after only four days in a regular room, Dr. Slaungard was ready to release him.

Or so he said. The previous day, Slaungard had told his to be ready around noon. As much as Ryan had prayed for this day, he now wasn't sure he was ready for it. He'd frantically contacted the recommended rehab, had Drew send over his housekeeping crew so the house would look decently clean and collected all of their belonging from the hospital room. Now at half past four, there was no doctor or paperwork in sight. Even under the best of circumstances he didn’t considered himself a patient man, but today he felt like screaming he'd worked himself into such a state. The opposite was true for Col. Ryan would have expected him to be acting like a caged tiger, but Colin peacefully napped while Ryan fretted. Having a system full of heavy duty painkillers probably had something to do with the difference.

Finally, Annette entered the room with a fist full of papers. After a half hour of reading and signing, it was over. With some help from Ryan and the transport team, Colin transferred to a wheelchair for his journey to freedom.

"Ready?"

"Let's go before they change their minds." Colin grinned up at him.

Out the door they whisked. Down the hallway, they came to an abrupt halt when Ryan saw most of the ICU nurses gathered at the nursing station. Damon, Missy, Steve, Eva, Bobby and all the others stood waiting with huge grins on their faces.

Damon stepped forward, "We just wanted to say goodbye to one of our success stories."

"Thank you," Ryan hugged each of them in turn. "I don't know what I would have done without you guys."

"It's been a pleasure knowing you," Eva kissed his cheek. "You're an inspiration."

"Take care of this guy and all those friends of yours," Damon shook Colin’s hand. "I've never seen a bunch of more devoted people."

Colin ducked his head, blushing, but his grin couldn't be suppressed. "I will. They mean everything to me."

After a round of hugs, kisses and well wishes, Colin started to get antsy. "Thank you for all you've done. But, no offense, I hope I never see any of you ever again."

"And we don't want to see you back here again. Go home and get well."

"I will. Thank you. Chauffeur, drive on."

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

After a short stop at the pharmacy to pick up all Colin’s prescriptions, they were finally on the way home. Colin simply enjoyed lying back, looking out the window and breathing non-hospital air.

“Hey, Ry, we’re going to your house, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Ryan stammered a little.  They hadn’t discussed anything about what they were going to do after Colin got out of the hospital.  Ryan had just assumed Colin would stay with him, hopefully as a permanent arrangement.  “If you…”

“No, that’s good,” Colin gave him a shy little grin.  “I didn’t think you’d just drop me off at a hotel somewhere.  But you know, if this…if you think…don't take this wrong…I could hire an aide if you don't want to be saddled this old broken down…"

"No," Ryan protested vehemently. He wanted no one else touching Colin, helping him. Perhaps he was being selfish, but how could he trust his care to someone else after they've already been through so much. Unless… "But if you don't want…it might get…intimate…"

"I can't think of anyone I'd rather get intimate with," Colin reassured him, with a bit of a coquettish blush. "If you're willing…don't feel like you have to…but I'd prefer you. I’m tired of getting manhandled by people I don’t know.  And I feel…I don't know…if we can do it together, I'm still independent…does that make sense?"

"It does," he squeezed Colin’s hand, pulling it to lie on his thigh. "Thank you."  Then the reality of the situation unexpectedly hit him.  The reality of what it meant being home alone with Colin. 

"What's wrong, Ry?" came the soft query from the passenger seat.

Ryan swallowed his first impulse to deny any problem, to declare 'nothing'. If they wanted to survive as a couple, he knew his old habit of hiding his problems and feelings from Colin wouldn't work. Not for long.  Putting up a macho front would gain them nothing.

"I'm scared," he acknowledged.

This brought Colin up straighter. "Of what? Of me? Of us?"

"No, no, not that. It's just that…well…what if something happens?"

He reached over for Ryan’s hand. "What are you afraid will happen?"

"Oh, I don't know," starting to feel a little silly. "What if you get a fever or have trouble breathing…or have some kind of relapse? There's no call button at home."

"I don't understand."

"At the hospital, if your blood pressure went up or an alarm went off, all I had to do was push the call button and a nurse would be there in just a couple of minutes. Like when you had the fever…"

Colin shook his head slowly, "I don't remember any fever. I kinda feel like I just woke up a couple of days ago."

"That's part of the problem. You don't remember what it was like. You don't…"

"I'm sorry," Colin brought Ryan’s hand to his lips. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone. But I really don't remember."

"I know, it’s not your fault." He sighed. "I'm just afraid that something will happen and I won't know what to do. I'll make the wrong decision or not make it quick enough and you'll be the one to suffer for it."

"You're not alone now, Ryan," Colin’s hand slowly slid down his cheek. "I'm awake and you don't have to make all the decisions by yourself. And we're only a phone call away from the doctor. If it ever comes down to it, and I don't think it will, there's always 911."

He took his eyes off the road to risk a glance at him. "How are you feeling? Really?" A quick grin. "I'll know if you're lying."

A smirk, then his focus turned inward. "Weak. Tired, though I don't know why, I just slept for two hours. And if I hadn't just taken a dose of mega-drugs, I think I'd be in a shit load of hurt."

"Thank god for drugs then."

"Thank god for drugs," he agreed. "Doesn't really kill the pain, just makes it kinda distant. You know it’s there but you don't care.

"There's stuff we have to talk about, yeah. This, for one," Colin’s hand drifted up his thigh. "And about everything happened in the last month that I don't remember. Not now, not when you're driving. I want both of us to be able to look at each other. I don't want to have to hide what I'm feeling any more. I want you to see it all."

"Oh, Col," he blinked rapidly. "I want you to see, too. And I want you to see all of me."

 

* * *

 

 

Colin settled back into the recliner, thoroughly enjoying being back in a familiar house with some of his own things around him. Someone had taken great care to clean the place. He knew it wasn’t Ryan, Ryan wasn’t that good of a housekeeper.  In fact he was a bit of a slob.  Drew had probably arranged it. 

Speaking of Drew, Colin had been surprised when Drew and Wayne stopped over, bearing what turned out to be a delicious meal. Sadly, he'd only been able to eat a small portion before his shrunken stomach had protested. Still, he was quite content, reclined back in the chair, his favorite mug filled with coffee in front of him, and soft music playing on the entertainment system. He could hear talking and giggling from the kitchen where the guys finished the clean-up chores. Yes, a man could get used to this. He _wanted_ to get used to this. He and Ryan together, entertaining good friends.

"Colin, you need anything else?" Wayne called.

"No, Wayne, thanks.  I'm fine."

Ryan's head peeked around the corner with a cheeky grin. "You certainly are."

"Ha, ha.  Get yourselves out here. I'm getting lonely. I'm used to someone taking my temperature every ten minutes."

"Every four hours," Ryan corrected. "And I can go get the thermometer if it'd make you feel more at home."

"It'll be a very long time before I let anyone near me with one of those things," he retorted. "You must be done in there by now. Or am I interrupting important girl talk?"

"We were talking about you, Colin, so no, not important at all."  Drew appeared in the doorway, wiping his hand on a towel.

“Thanks, Drew.”

“Anytime, Colin.” Drew smiled sweetly back at him.  “We were just talking about when we can schedule the last of the Whose Line taping.”

“Well, it won’t be until I can get rid of that thing,” Colin scowled at the walker leaning against the wall in the corner.  “I’m not going on national TV using a walker to get around.  People already think I look like an old man.”

“No, they don’t,” Wayne answered.  “Not the fans anyway.  They think you’re adorable.”

“So do I,” Ryan added, flopping down on the couch.

“Stop it,” Colin growled, hiding his face behind his coffee mug.

“No rush, buddy,” Drew assured him.  “We’ve already have enough on tape to cover a whole season.  But you know Dan, two more tapings are in the budget and he doesn’t want to lose the money.”

Wayne leaned over to pat Colin’s knee.  “Don’t worry, you’ll get there.  When we saw your car after the accident, we were like, wow, he’s lucky to even be alive.  But look at you now,” Colin thought he saw a touch of horror as he raked Colin with his eyes.  “You’ll be back in no time.”

Did he really look that bad, Colin wondered.  He hadn’t looked in a mirror in the hospital at all.  Or maybe he had and it was one of the things he didn’t remember.  Raising his hand, he rubbed at the tense spot between his eyebrows.  He hated that other people seemed to know things about him that he didn’t know himself.  He doubly hated the way the painkillers slowed down his thought process, so he always felt two sentences behind in any conversation.

“Hey, guys, it’s great that you stopped over, but I think Colin’s getting tired.”

“We won’t overstay our welcome, then,” Drew jumped up, dragging Wayne behind him towards the door.  “Colin, it’s so good to see you home again.  You really are lucky to be alive.” 

“Thanks for the dinner,” Ryan walked their friends to the door.  “It was much better than anything I could cook.”

“No problem.  If you need anything, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”  

After the two other men left, Ryan sat down on the coffee table.  Taking Colin’s uninjured foot in his huge hands, he began massaging the instep.  “You know I love you, don’t you?”

Colin gulped. He would never get enough of hearing those words. He couldn’t remember anyone ever saying them to him before.  His father certainly hadn’t.  Neither had Mark. Maybe his mother, but he’d been too young when she died to really remember her at all.  He hadn't been aware of how much he craved it until this moment.

"I love you, too." The words flowed easily for the man he'd adored for years. "But we've got some things we should talk about."

"I know.”  Ryan continued to work the tense muscles of Colin’s foot.  “You want to start?"

Colin took a moment to try to get his thoughts together, trying to ignore the pure physical pleasure of Ryan’s massage.  "Why?" He frowned at his own confusion. "Why now?  We've known each other a long time.”

“But it wasn’t until Whose Line started that we’ve had time to really be together.”  Ryan kept his eyes on Colin’s foot. 

“You’re not even gay, are you?”

 “Bisexual.  From that very first tour, you made me feel things no straight guy is supposed to feel.  And it just took me a long time to come to terms with that.  I guess I was being a coward.”

“No, you’re no coward, Ryan.  It’s not an easy thing to admit to yourself.  Believe me, I know.”  His own moment of self-discovery had been quick and rude while he was living in a cardboard box under a bridge.  “You really were attracted to me all that time?”

“Uh-huh.”

Colin gave a short quiet chuckle.  “I never thought you’d ever find a guy like me attractive.  Well, I have to tell you, my gaydar is crap.  Always has been.”

“Is that why you never noticed Jeff flirting with you?”

Colin’s mouth gaped in astonishment.  “Jeff?  Our Jeff?  With me?”

“He thinks you’re…what was the word he used…oh, lickalicious.”

Colin could only shake his head at that ridiculous statement.  “Anyway, back to us.  This isn't just because of the accident, is it?"

"In a way, yes," Ryan turned to fully face him. "No, not what you're thinking. To pity or feel sorry for you never crossed my mind. Terror, now that I felt." He could see it as he relived the experience. "Worry. Stress. But not pity."

"Then why is it because of the accident?" he probed.

"I had a lot of time to think, sitting next to you." He watched the words try to form in his mind. "That accident didn't just happen to you. It happened to us. One of the things I realized, sitting there, was how much we were already an 'us'. We're already so much a part of each other's lives. We work together, we eat together, we spend holidays together. And I grasped how much I wanted it all. To be in every part of your life and to have you in every part of mine."

He'd never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted to kiss Ryan in that moment. But he had to wait. There was more to say. He took a breath, knowing what he was about to say might be hurtful, but he needed to know the answer.

"Because you want to be in my life? Or you want someone in your life?"

As he expected a split second of surprise and pain flashed. He covered Ryan’s hand with his own, trying to show his physically he wasn't rejecting him. He took a deep cleansing breath.

"You," Ryan pulled his head down until their foreheads met. "Only you." He let out a slight chuff of laughter. "Oh, it was fun this last year, watching you get spiffed up for me."

Colin drew back so he could see Ryan’s face. "What?"

"The new haircut?  Losing all that weight?" he grinned. "Not wearing the same wrinkled shirt for a week?"

Colin felt inexplicably pleased. "You noticed?"

"Oh, yeah, I noticed. Like you noticed my pumpkin shirt & tie."

"You look smashing in that outfit."

"Thanks. This is nothing new, Col. I didn't start to love you because you were in an accident. I've loved you for a long time. But you in a relationship, then I was married. I got divorce. It just didn't feel right to leap from one person's arms to yours. I wanted to give it some time, prove to you I wasn’t using you as a rebound. But then I almost lost you and I realized we don't _have_ all the time in the world. I don't want to let the time we might have together slip away while we play stupid games."

Colin sat back, digesting all he'd said. "You've loved me a long time?" He summoned a grin, "Since we first met?"

"No," Ryan grinned back. "I thought you were a stalker when you showed up in that auditorium. You scared the hell out of me."

He tried to mold his features into contriteness.  “I didn’t mean to.”

"I fell in love with you on June 18th. It was a Tuesday."

"What?"

"When we were in England.  I don't remember what we were talking about. But I looked at you and thought, God, I love this man."

“I’ve always loved you, Ryan.”

He knew it was risky, to ask this much in this first grand rush, but he braced higher, pushing Ryan softly back into the cushions. They kissed with the lushness of fresh-sprung love. And at long last, the loneliness of Colin Mochrie’s life stopped hurting. He thought a name over and over – Ryan…Ryan. A benediction, as the kiss deepened, firmer, fuller but still with a certain reserve – a man schooled to reject the possibility of miracles now forced to change his belief. They searched for and found a more intimate fit, enhanced by the sway and nod of heads that built the kiss into something more than either had expected.

Abruptly Colin stiffened, a spasm of pain cramping his back. He would have gasped if he'd been able.

"Col," Ryan tried to squirm out from under him. "You all right?"

"Don't move," he couldn't muster more than a whisper. Deep breaths, he told himself, riding the wave as best he could. An eternity later, the cramp eased enough for him to slowly push himself back into the cushions. "Ow."

"Are you okay?" Ryan’s scared concern blazed out of his eyes.

"Yeah. It's better now." He sighed the air from his lungs. "My back spasmed. Whew, that was not fun."

"Should I call the doctor?"

"Nah, no need for that. Annette said it might happen. I'll be fine. I mean it, no lies.  You know what backs can be like." He told Ryan’s dubious face.

"Okay. Remember I'll be going to all your doctor appointments."

"I promise, I'll always tell you the truth. Besides I'm shit at lying."

"Damn, right, buddy."

He smiled up into his beautiful face. "Tell me again."

"What?"

"You know. Tell me."

Ryan spread his fingers on his face, resting a thumb so near his mouth, he could almost taste it. "I love you."

"Once more. I got to hear it more."

"I love you."

"Will you get tired of me asking you to say it?"

"You won't have to ask."

"Neither will you. I love you." Another kiss, a hard short stamp of possession, then a demand filled with boyish impatience. "A shower. I would kill for a shower right now."

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

"Are you sure you're ready to take a shower? You just got home from the hospital." Ryan cautioned.

"Course, I'm ready," Colin replied in a confident tone, but Ryan thought he could see a flicker of doubt.

"Well, let's get you into the bathroom and we'll see what we can work out." The injured man got into the position taught him by the physical therapists. "Okay, on three."

Ryan lifted, Colin pushed and soon they had him on his feet again. Ryan rolled his walker in front of him. Colin’s nose crinkled, but he settled himself and started off.

"Wait, you're not thinking of going upstairs, are you?"

"But the…oh," he looked up the length of the stairs and then down at the walker. "That's not gonna work out for a while, is it?" He spun himself around and headed for the guest bathroom.

When Colin entered the room, his eyes opened wide, his expression between pleased surprise and consternation. The tub/shower combo had been replaced by a frosted glass shower stall and safety bars lined the wall at perfect grabbing height. Ryan scooted past Colin’s immobile form to open the shower door. A fold-down seat had been built into one of the walls. Shelves were within easy reach and the nozzle replaced with a hand sprayer.

"You had this done?" he questioned quietly.  “For me?”

"Yeah. Well, Jeff wanted to help so much so I asked him to arrange for the remodeler to come in. I thought…" Ryan faltered at the blank expression he saw. "I thought it might be hard, at first…"

"Yeah," his voice toneless. He pushed into the room then sat heavily on the toilet seat. "You probably thought right."

"It's just until you get stronger," he tried to assure him, not liking the unreadable expression. "Anyone can use it. It's not like its only…"

"Only for broken old men?"

"Colin!  You are neither old nor broken."

"I'm sorry, Ry," he summoned a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Not your fault. I’m …touched you’d do this just for me.”

They traded soppy smiles. “But…”

“I guess it makes me realize this…” Colin gestured at himself.  “I’m not gonna get better in a couple of days, am I?”

“I think it’s gonna take longer than that, Col.”

Colin took a deep break and blew it out noisily.  “Well, you did good. If this is the only way I can get a shower, so be it. Why don't you go get me some clean clothes and we'll get the show on the road."

"I'll be right back." Ryan took a moment to kiss his cheek and run his fingers through his oily hair.

When he returned it was to find Colin stripped down to his briefs, leaning heavily on the counter, staring into the mirror. His head turned slowly at Ryan’s entrance, his features a study of horrified disgust.

Ryan let himself look at Colin in a way he hadn't for a long time. For weeks, he'd only let himself see the day by day minuscule progress. All the things as they healed and improved. Now he looked at the entirety and tried to see it through Colin’s eyes.  He saw the fourteen inch long incision, still protected by the surgical staples down the center of his chest. The dressing over the trach wound at the base of his throat. The scar from the chest tube. The bruising from the uncounted IV lines over both forearms and the back of his hands. Skin stretched over sharp bone without the rounding of toned muscle.

And Colin was seeing it all for the first time, without the buffer of knowing it had once been even worse. Ryan understood his visceral reaction, but he couldn't share it. He had seen him worse. Oh, so much worse. That Colin was standing on his own, breathing, talking and looking at him with clear, intelligent eyes was so miraculous for Ryan, he could find no complaint about his current condition.

"Ryan?" he appealed, as vulnerable as Ryan'd ever heard him. "What did they do to me?"

Fearing he'd already been supporting his own weight longer than he should have, Ryan helped him lower himself back to the toilet seat. He let the awareness of how fragile Colin'd become pierce him.

"You know you were in a car accident."

"Yeah," he nodded vaguely. "You know how it happened?"

"Not really, but I've got the police and insurance reports. You can read them later if you want to.  The guys said your car was t-boned, hit right over the driver’s side door."

"Okay. What about...this?" He gestured sharply.

"We’ll start at the bottom and work to the top, okay?" At his nod, Ryan began. "Your left ankle was smashed. You've got some hardware in there now, but you'll probably have to have more surgery later to straighten it out."

Colin glanced down at the malformed joint. His attempt to move it was met with obvious resistance and pain. "Ouch.  I'll work on getting it moving better in rehab, right?

"Yeah. Your pelvis was broken in two places."

His experimental shift brought a grimace to his face. "I thought something didn't feel quite right. No pins or screw?"

"No, they said the pelvis usually heal on its own quite well. But if it does shift it could cause bleeding and nerve damage. Not too much danger of that happening now, it seems to be healing well."

Looking more and more shell-shocked, Colin snorted. "Great, more rehab for that. You already told me about my gallbladder and spleen."

"They were both ruptured and bleeding, so they had to remove them," he confirmed. With nowhere else to sit, Ryan eased himself to the floor at the other man’s feet.

"Any other organ they thought I wouldn't need any more?"

Ryan tried not to react to his badgering tone. "No, they didn't remove anything else. But your lungs were badly bruised and your diaphragm ruptured. That's why you had to be on the ventilator."

"Ventilator?" Struggle evident on his face, Colin’s hand shifted toward Ryan. He cradled it between both of his own, feeling the slight tremble. "You mean I couldn't breathe on my own?"

"You don't remember the ventilator?"

"I don't remember much of anything. I feel like I woke up just a couple of days ago. I've got some little bits and pieces but I don’t know what was real and what was dreaming. Though, I'm pretty sure I wasn't really held hostage, was I?"

Ryan returned his small grin. "No, never hostage, but they did put restraints on you after you tore the ventilator tube out."

"I did?"

"Yeah, caused quite a ruckus, too."

"Huh," Colin grunted, looking lost and bewildered. Ryan rose up to his knees, and enfolded his friend, letting Colin hold him like an anchor. "I remember you. A little bit. Drew. Greg. I think they were there.  Breathing because you told me I should. Hurting a lot. But none of it feels real. The last thing I’m sure of is going into the studio that morning."

Ryan had been told by the doctors all of the sedation would keep Colin from recalling his experience. But being told and understanding were two different things. Ryan hadn't understood he really wouldn't remember any of it.

"Maybe it’s for the best." He tried to see the good side of the situation, ignoring the wave of loneliness. "It wasn't exactly the most pleasant of experiences." He reasoned to his skeptical look.

"I don't like not knowing."

Colin wanted, needed to be in control of himself, his own body, his own mind. On stage, he could let loose, let some of his inner demons out to play, trusting his friends to reel him in, if necessary. But off-stage, bad things tended to happen if he didn’t stay on his guard. A muscle in his jaw jerked.

"Col, please," Ryan gently turned Colin’s head back toward him. "It'll be okay. You're lucky to be alive, you know. The awful part is over and we can start moving forward again."

A sharp retort rose to his lips, but he cut it off, staring intently into clear green eyes. Ryan returned his gaze, letting him see whatever he needed. Slowly he relaxed, his tense shoulders slouching downward.

"Okay, Ry." He leaned forward until his forehead touched his friends. "We'll try it your way. So let’s take a forward step into the shower."

With some maneuvering, Colin found himself perched on the new shower seat. Experimenting with the sprayer, he found a temperature acceptable for his feet, so he proceeded to douse the rest of himself down. The hot water felt heavenly cascading over his head, down his chest and all over his itchy skin. It cut through days of old sweat and grime. He groaned at the sublime sensation.

"You all right in there?" came the slightly worried query.

"Oh, god this feels good,'" he groaned again. "You should join me."

"Some other time, okay."

Reaching out to the shelf, he snagged the shampoo and squirted it liberally on his oily head. Closing his eyes, he used the lather to scrub his face, slowing at the feel of the unfamiliar beard. He'd worn a moustache in his youth for a short time, but he’d never much liked facial hair on himself. Now it contained entirely too much gray for his taste. Well, it could be disposed of easily enough. But the physical sign of time having passed without him being aware made him shiver.

Rinsing off his head, he grabbed the body wash and sponge. "Hey, Ryan, thanks for bringing all my stuff down here. Nice having my own things again."

"You're welcome. How you doing?"

"No problem yet."

He gingerly soaped his chest, trying to avoid snagging any of the staples. He was going to have a hell of a scar. As he got lower, he realized he had something of a dilemma. Since he and Ryan hadn't done more than kissing and a little snuggling, he'd been reluctant to shuck down totally in front of him. Plus he hadn't been too pleased with the sight of the rest of his body. He needed to take a look himself before he was ready to show it all off to the love of his life. Gingerly he pulled out the waistband of his briefs and peeked inside. Okay, so far so good. Reaching down, he shuffled his bits around and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Col?"

"Dangly bits all present and accounted for," he announced.

"Oh, Col," Ryan laughed.

"That's important information." With that accomplished, he decided he had no need for a pair of soaking wet briefs clinging to him, so with a little maneuvering he peeled them down his hips. Flinging them over the shower wall, he heard them land with a wet splat.

"What are you doing?" came the outraged squawk.

"Getting rid of excess baggage," he shouted back.

He grinned at the silence and continued scrubbing. Once he'd reached every accessible place, he called, "I could use someone to scrub my back."

"Really? Or are you just messing with me?"

"Really. I can't reach enough to give it a good scrub."

"Okay. Do I need to close my eyes?"

"Nah, I got nothing I should be ashamed of." He'd never been a vain man, far from it, but there were some parts of him he could be justifiable proud. And Ryan'd already seen everything else.

Wearing an overly large polo shirt, one Colin thought recognized as one of his own, and sweatpants, his hair rumpled and messy, Ryan had never looked more beautiful to him. His eyes, his smile, the arc of his eyebrows, the length of his nose and the curve of his lips, Colin drank them all in. God, how could a man like this love him, especially as ugly as he now was? Ryan had stayed by his side through the worst of it, he knew, his few vague memories all contained him. But why? Ryan said it was because he loved him and he wanted desperately to believe that, for he had loved Ryan since he’d first laid eyes on him. But understanding what Ryan saw in him was almost beyond his ken.

Ryan took the sponge unnoticed from his hand and began soaping up his back. Suddenly needing more, he twisted, pulling his friend close against him, letting hands rove over neck and shoulder. Ryan’s hands reciprocated, sliding up his back into what remained of his hair. He shivered and made a sound of gratification. His whole life he'd longed for someone to touch him this way, to touch the boy in him as well as the man, to soothe, reassure. The feel of fingers cradling the back of his head brought back a measure of all he'd missed. The mouth beneath his opened. He bit Ryan's lips and Ryan nipped his.

Sliding off the seat, he pulled Ryan down with him, until they knelt together. He moved his hips in afterbeats, chasing the slow figure eights Ryan made with his. He pushed against the pressure, needing more – more closeness, more contact, more Ryan, just more.

"Ouch," Ryan pressed him back.

"What?" he gasped.

"You're getting a little rough." The taller man fingered a small welt on his lip where he'd apparently bitten too hard.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry," he murmured in chagrin, trying to control his breathing. ""I didn’t mean to hurt you."

His own breathing still ragged, Ryan grinned. "I think we might need to slow down a little bit." He followed his glance down between them.

His chagrin heightened. "Yeah, I noticed. It looks like the dangly bits are going to stay dangly."

"It's perfectly…"

"I know. I know. I just got out of the hospital…I've been through a trauma…it's to be expected…blah, blah, blah."

"Really, Col…it's no big thing."

"Normally, in this situation it'd be a moderately large thing."

Ryan grinned, "It’s moderately large right now.”  He leaned forward to brush a kiss across Colin’s lips.  “I’m looking forward to seeing it in it’s full glory.  But for tonight, it's a very nice thing just the way it is."

He pulled Ryan back against his chest. "You know, I could…”  He reached down to caress Ryan’s half-hard dick.  “If you want me to…I could give you a helping hand."

Ryan’s hands skimmed down his slick back, then over his butt, before slowly removing Colin’s hand from him. "Not tonight, Col. For our first time, I want us together. Not just you doing for me, or me doing for you. But together. Is that okay?"

"There'll be a first time?" he let his apprehension slip.

"I promise. Now lets get you dried off before you catch a chill."

A wave of weakness and exhaustion hit him as he tried to figure out how to get himself upright again. Moving his body had never been this difficult before. "I'll need some help."

"It's been a long and hard day. I think you're about ready for bed, aren't you?"

"I hate to say it, but, yeah, I think so. Help me get up, dressed and I'll toddle off to bed." He also hated to admit but, "I think I'll need some of my pain pills too."

Without too much hardship, they got him into the spare bedroom.  Clean, crisp sheets and a firm but not hard mattress had never felt as wonderful.

"I'm gonna stay up for a while longer," Ryan announced. "Will you be okay?"

He frowned slightly in disappointment. "Sure. I'll be fine. Good night."

"Good night, love. Sleep well."


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Ryan tidied up the bathroom after seeing Colin to sleep, then picked up the few random things they'd left in the living room. Exhausted but he still felt the sting of adrenaline in his veins. Colin had finally come home, safe. Not yet at the end of the ordeal, still, they could celebrate a major milestone. After all these weeks of stress and worry, Colin was finally home.

And after their little sessions on the couch and in the shower, Ryan admitted to himself, he was still quite aroused. Even now, he could smell Colin’s freshly washed skin and feel his wet slick back under his hands and Colin’s hands roving over him. And he wanted more. He wanted it all, he didn't want to just imagine what it would be like anymore. The few kisses they'd shared were already better than his fantasies. It had been so long since he'd been sexual with anyone, his body ached with unrelieved excitement.

Not that he blamed Col for the lack of release. The injured man had already offered more than Ryan thought his poor abused body would be capable of. Ryan desperately wanted to take up his obvious suggestion of sleeping beside him. But he had no desire to add any more pressure to what Colin already clearly felt. In his present mood, he didn't think he could just lie beside his friend without desiring more, more touching, more kissing. And Colin would try to please him, Ryan knew he would. He didn't want Colin to have to continually crash against the wall of all the things his body wouldn't let him do.  And Ryan didn’t want to use Colin to appease his own libido. 

So he decided his own shower was in order.  A little soap, a little imagination and it didn’t take long before he groaned into climax.

Towelling himself off, he stopped suddenly to listen. He could hear nothing from the guest room. Was Colin sleeping all right? Ryan strained to detect any sound or movement. Should he go check?  If Colin was having difficulty, would he be able to call out? Unable to stop himself, he padded quietly to the bedroom.

Colin lay sprawled over the bed, half on his stomach and half on his side. He'd discarded the t-shirt he'd been wearing, his long pale limbs visible in the light from the hallway. Watching intently, Ryan tried to detect the rise and fall of his chest. He stepped closer, a spike of fear in his throat. Colin was breathing, wasn't he? Apprehension made Ryan lay his hand on the bare back. Oh yes, nice steady rhythm from his cool fever-free back. Ryan, you're being a worrywart, he scolded himself, as he snuck back out of the room. He's fine. He's going to be fine. He doesn't need you motherhenning him.

That little voice didn't stop his from making two more trips that evening to check on his friend’s breathing.

 

* * *

 

 

Colin woke to a large hand pressing between his shoulder blades. "Ry?" he whispered groggily.

"Go back to sleep, Col, I didn't mean to wake you."

He rolled slightly so he could see his tall friend. Ryan wore a long t-shirt over boxers, obviously prepared for sleep. "Som’in’ wrong?"

"No, nothing wrong. Just wanted to check up on you before I went to bed."

He could read the slight embarrassment on his face. "'m fine. Listen," he snagged Ryan’s hand before he could move away. "This is a big bed. You could bunk in here with me."

Attraction, then hesitation. "Come 'ere," he urged. "We'll both sleep better. You won't have to be worrying about me half the house away."

Ryan grimaced his discomfiture. "Have I been waking you up?"

"No problem." He pulled him closer. "Just climb in here. You know you want to."

"Yeah, I do," Ryan agreed with a sheepish grin. "Move over."

He drew in his limbs to give Ryan room, allowed him to settle beneath the blanket, then threw said limbs over the taller man. Oh, yes, this was his version of heaven. Two warm bodies, arms and legs entwined, he could feel Ryan’s heartbeat beneath his arm. He let his breath out in a soft hum of appreciation.

"Are you purring?" He could hear the smile in Ryan’s voice.

"Close enough, Ry." Colin opened his mouth, hesitated over whether to tell his friend something so silly, then decided if he couldn't tell Ryan something like this, who could he tell. "Want to hear something stupid?"

"Sure." Ryan turned slightly to face him.

"After I walked out on Mark," He could feel Ryan tense slightly. "When I did laundry, I didn't put the clothes away. I stacked them on his side of the bed."

"Why?" Ryan asked with confused curiosity.

"It wasn’t that I missed Mark, but I did miss sleeping with someone." He was glad the darkness hid his expression. "I know it looked like I was too lazy even to put my clothes away but the clothes made it feel there was still another body beside me. Stupid, I know, but it was the only way I could sleep."

Ryan nodded slightly. "I know the feeling. It's hard to face a suddenly empty bed. Not that Pat and I slept in the same bed that much in the last year." He cleared his throat. "So how often is the other side of the bed empty these days?"

"You're the first one since I left Mark," he confided.

"Col, you can't really ask me to believe that. I know you slept with at least one guy when we were in England."

"More than one and I had sex with them," he clarified. "I never spent the whole night with them." He could still feel Ryan’s disbelief. "I'm not trying to convince you I've been celibate. You know I haven't. But no man's spent the night in my bed for ten years. Nor have I spent the night in theirs. You're the first, Ry."

He waited as Ryan absorbed his disclosure. "It's very…intimate, sleeping together, isn't it?" he spoke hesitantly. "Vulnerable?"

"Yeah. As much as I like cuddling up to a warm body, I literally couldn't sleep next to someone I didn't trust. And then the whole awkward morning after thing.  Facing the daylight, with morning breath, pillow marks on your face and bed head is not something you want to do with just anyone.  I don’t trust easily, and being with Mark pretty much taught me to not trust anyone.  It just wasn't worth it."

Ryan’s soft chuckle died as he considered his next question. "And you trust me?"

"With my life, Ryan." He hesitated, "And my heart. Right now I think it's the only thing inside me still intact." He didn't verbalize the plea not to break it. He wouldn't be able to take it if this relationship didn't work. Walking out on Mark had actually given him a boost of self-confidence. Losing Ryan would shatter his embattled soul.

His hand flowed over the side of Ryan’s face, descended down his neck, over his shoulder to capture his hand. Ryan shivered at the caress. He directed his hand to Colin’s chest just above his heart.

"I don't have one any more," Ryan whispered into the intimate darkness that surrounded them.

"Wha'?" Distracted by the position of Ryan’s hand, he must have missed part of the conversation.

"A heart," Ryan clarified. "I don't have one any more. I gave it to you."

He closed his eyes at the burning sting behind them. "Hallmark card, Ryan," he croaked. When he had his emotions back under some semblance of control, he pushed up on his elbow, leaning over him. "I think we traded then, because you've always had mine." A butterfly kiss on each eyelid, then lower on the tip of his nose. "I just couldn't admit it to you."

"I'm sorry I waited so long." Ryan nuzzled along his collarbone.

"Don't be sorry, Ry." He lowered himself back alongside Ryan, betrayed by the quivering muscles in his arm. "The past is the past and we're moving forward, remember? Now what’s the plan?  Am I just staying until I get better or are we living together?"

He felt Ryan’s intake of breath beneath him. "Living together, I hope.  Would that be okay with you?"

Colin chuckled. "We've known each for almost fifteen years. We don't have to mess about with the whole 'getting to know you' thing, do we?"

"No, but…Col."

He knew he was pushing, but the darkness and their intimate position seemed to invite confidences. "I should tell you I don’t do the dating thing very well.  Every guy I’ve actually gone out with has said, sometime during the date, ‘You don’t talk much, do you?’  I guess I’m not the 'boyfriend' type.”

 “You’ve never seemed to have that problem with me.”

“But you don’t seem to mind if I don’t talk a lot.”

“I don’t mind at all.  I like to talk to you, but I like being quiet with you too.”

“Thank you, Ryan.” Colin bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling.  Ryan was the first person he’d ever felt truly accepted him.  “Back to my original question, if we’re gonna live together, we’re gonna have to do something about my status.”

“Huh?”

“Ryan, I’m a Canadian citizen, I don’t have permanent residence status in the US.  I’ve never needed it before.  I can only stay in the US six months out of every twelve.  And I must be getting close to that now.”

“Oh, shit, I never even thought of that.” Ryan clutched his hand tighter, as if some immigration official planned to tear them apart in their sleep.

“If we're going to be together, I want us to be totally together. Not one of us in Toronto and one of us here.  I guess I'm asking if you feel the same way."

Ryan was silent so long Colin thought his heart would explode. "Same-sex marriage is legal in Canada.”

Colin couldn’t stop a quiet gasp.

“There were a lot of things about being married I liked," came Ryan’s soft tentative voice.

"I don’t know.  It’s never been an option for me before," Colin replied, his throat tight with tension.

"And some things I hated."

"Okay," he agreed, not knowing what else to say.

"It's a big risk."

"Yeah, it is. But if we're gonna try to make a go of it," Colin coughed to clear his throat. "Being married wouldn't make it more risky. If it doesn't work…even if we…it'll still…"

"Be devastating whether we're married or not," Ryan said what he couldn't.

"Yeah."

They both lie silently until a laugh burst from Ryan’s chest. "Wha?"

He rolled until they were face to face. "You know as a marriage proposal that really sucks."

"Well, I didn't intend…not really…well sorta…kinda…I don't mean right away.  Wait, you’re the one who brought it up."

"No running out to a judge tomorrow?" Ryan giggled.

He let his own laughter out. "No, I think we might give it a little more time than that. You deserve the whole wining and dining thing, my love. You know, little presents, romantic dinners. Weekend getaways."

"Um, sounds good." Ryan’s hand skated up and down his arm. He closed his eyes at the delicious sensation. His own hand tangled itself in Ryan’s hair. He loved finally being able to touch him properly. He loved even more being touched by Ryan. "We’ll talk about the other thing again later."

"Other thing?" Colin questioned, feeling a little behind in the conversation.

"The marriage proposal."

"Thank you." Relief flooding over him, he rolled over to kiss Ryan, but he couldn't suppress a huge yawn.

Ryan lifted himself to glance at the clock. "It's past two. We both need to get to sleep. Your appointment's at nine."

Colin didn't think he'd have been able to hold off the need to close his eyes much longer anyway. He gathered his love closer, so close they shared the same pillow.

"Good night, my love," he whispered in Ryan’s ear.

"Sweet dreams."

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about how short this chapter is, but the next scene is pretty emotional and giving me some trouble. So I thought I'd post what I have, to give me time to work out the kinks on the next part.

**Chapter 23**

Over the next two weeks, they fell into a routine. Up in the morning, Ryan took a shower while Colin insisted on dressing himself. They consumed a quick breakfast, Ryan dropped Colin off at  the rehab center then made his own way to the studio. Around noon, he made a quick trip back to rehab picked Colin up and they enjoyed a short lunch at home. After lunch, Colin usually napped until his occupational therapist showed up and Ryan headed back to the studio.  After taping finished, generally fairly late in the evening, Ryan made dinner, cleaned up afterward, sorted out his mail, then studied the next day’s script. 

He'd imagined life would become less stressful when Colin was released from the hospital. He'd been wrong. There was never enough hours in the day to complete all the tasks he'd set for himself. Colin tried to help but most of his resources went to rehab and just doing basic personal care. Taking a shower exhausted him, his attempt at laundry cost him hours of lower back spasms and cooking proved beyond his current capabilities. He'd offered to help by reading lines from the script for Ryan but if he’d taken his painkillers his focus was so erratic Ryan found it easier and faster to just do it by himself.

Friday found him exhausted and praying for the weekend. Not that he could really relax even then. Being an executive producer had it own list of job tasks that needed to be completed. Sighing, he laid his head on the small table in his dressing room. Almost time to pick up Colin and he hadn’t even changed out of his taping clothes yet.  At home there were a mountain of bills to be paid plus other mail, his own and Colin’s, that needed to be responded to . 

Enough whining, he told himself sternly. Colin’s alive, he's home and getting better every day. He loves me and I love him. What more can I ask for? Resolutely, he stripped down, redressed in his street clothes and headed out to pick up Col.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan marveled again how sparkling clean the rehab building was as he entered the front door. The place buzzed with energy. The receptionist gave him a wave and announced, "Room two," before he could get within ten steps. Already Ryan knew his way to most of the therapy rooms. He spotted Amy, Colin’s therapist, in her office as he rounded the corner.

"Hi, Ryan. I've got him in the whirlpool right now. I'd like him to spend another ten minutes, if you don't mind waiting."

"No, I don't mind." He pulled up a chair. "How's he doing?"

"Great," the therapist enthused. "I wish all my patients had his determination. He's gained three pounds of good solid muscle, putting him up to one hundred and thirty-nine pounds."

"That's good," but Ryan could read concern on Amy's expressive face. "But…"

"He's doing really well with the crutches instead of the walker, but he's hit a slight plateau. The last couple of days he hasn't made the progress he thinks he should. I'm not concerned with that. His progress is perfectly normal, even beyond what I hoped for. But he doesn't do anything halfway, does he?"

"No," Ryan agreed with a rueful grin. "He doesn't know how."

"I'm afraid he might be pushing himself too hard. I tried to cut down a little today, the body needs time to recover from the stress we put on it, not to mention how much trauma he has that still needs to heal. But he noticed and didn't like it at all. He's getting frustrated."

"He hasn't been taking it out on you, has he?"

"No, he’s a sweetheart.  But I’m thinking he’s the type who would tell you he was fine, even if he was bleeding from a hundred different places.”

“Yeah, that’s Colin.”

“He does everything I ask of him and more, with hardly any complaint. I’ve taken courses in body language and I can generally tell when something's up. And he was a bit of a crab today."

"A bit?"

She smiled. "A few hells and a couple shits. But then he’s not a real sweary guy, is he?"

"No he likes to have something in reserve for special occasions.  But still that was fairly mild. No pointed finger in your face?"

"Not yet. I've tried to explain he's not going to heal over night. Like it or not, he's in for a long haul. Maybe it would help if you mentioned he could try to slow down a little bit."

"I can try," Ryan answered skeptically. "Sometimes I can get him to listen to me. But I'm not guaranteeing anything."

"All any of us can do is try. I'm not afraid he'll give up. But I am afraid he'll try something he's not ready for and only end up setting himself back. Try to convince him he's right at the point he should be."

"Okay, I'll give it a shot."

“Oh, he was complaining about his pain med making him dopey, so I called his doctor to see about switching him to something else.  I asked him to throw in some muscle relaxants too.  Those should help with the back spasms.  Here’s the new script.  Keep an eye on him the next couple of days for side effects.  I’m sure the pharmacist will go over them with you when you get the scripts filled.”

“Thanks, Amy.” 

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Dropping his crutches, Colin flopped down into his favorite chair. His ankle sent sharp spikes of pain up his leg with each heart beat and his hips ached no matter what position he tried. The whirlpool at the rehab had helped but not nearly enough. He considered taking his pain pills, but they pretty much took him out of the game. He wanted at least a little more time of alertness.

His body had never betrayed him like this before. He’d never been really inclined toward playing physical sports.  Oh, he’d played hockey in his youth.  What Canadian boy hadn’t?  Tall, strong and agile, he made the school team, but he’d never worked hard enough to be better than third line.  That experiment had been more towards pleasing his father than his own interest.  And hadn’t that worked out well?   

So he'd never been seriously injured, a couple of minor broken bones but nothing of this severity. Rarely even sick, he had no experience dealing with incapacity. And he hated it. The constant pain, the weakness and exhaustion over doing the smallest task.  The nimble strength he’d always taken for granted was gone. Now taking a shower was a major production and required assistance. All of his efforts in rehab and home brought bloody little improvement.

Worse, even more than his body’s betrayal, was the treachery of his mind.  It was no boast to say he was brighter than most people.  Hell, he’d graduated from High School as valedictorian despite living in a cardboard box at the time.  Now he could barely read, much less lose himself in the comfort of a well-loved book.  He’d hardly been able to keep up with the plot of the silly sit-com on the television the night before.      

The doorbell interrupted his dour thoughts. Leaning forward he started the maneuver he'd been taught to stand without assistance. No longer just a bounce and away, he struggled through the ten-step procedure. But at least it was something he could now do on his own.

"I've got it," Ryan called from the kitchen to his frustration. "You just stay put and rest."

"Brad!" he heard as Ryan answered the door. "What are you doing here? Come on in."

"You forgot next week’s script.  Drew asked if I could drop it off." Brad's tall, mop-haired figure strolled into the living room. "Hey, Colin. You're looking…well…not very good…like shit, really…but better than the last time I saw you. Right after surgery, you looked gross, now you only look like a concentration camp inmate. Wow, how much weight did you lose?"

"Over thirty pounds," Ryan supplied distractedly as he paged through the blue folder. "But he's gained three back since he's been home."

"Thirty pounds," Brad whistled softly through his teeth. "He’s skinnier than you, Ryan." He missed Ryan's slightly offended look while he smiled brightly at Colin. "But at least you don't have all those tubes and wires stuck in you. That was way scary. You know you're really lucky to be alive."

Colin wondered if he could make someone spontaneously combust using only his will. Intensifying the power of his glare, he gave it his best shot. "Thank you for your professional opinion, Dr. Sherwood."

Brad could be frighteningly oblivious at times. Like now. "Looks like it'll be awhile before you're back at work. I mean a puff of wind would blow you away right now. Denny could kick the crap out of you. Well, Denny could probably kick the crap out of me too, but you know what I mean."

"Yes," Colin hissed. "Sherwood…"

"Brad, thanks for dropping this off," Ryan steered Brad toward the door, throwing a nervous glance at Colin over his shoulder. "We don't want to keep you from starting your weekend."

His teeth clenched together so hard his jaw ached, Colin barely heard the quick good-byes at the door.

"Can you fire him?" he ground when Ryan reappeared.

"No," he denied firmly. "You know I don’t have that power."

"You do have the power to schedule what’s left of the season of Whose Line."

"No, Col, you’re not ready. Not yet. It's only been two weeks since you got out of the hospital."

If any throwable had been close at hand it would now be in pieces, smashed against the wall. "Two weeks are long enough. I need to _do_ something."

Ryan rubbed a tired hand across his forehead. "I know you're frustrated, Col. I know it's hard for you. But you've got to back off a little bit. You know you are…"

"Don't say it," he warned.

"It's true." Ryan approached the back of the chair and laid gentle hands on his shoulders. "You're lucky to be alive."

Colin threw himself forward, out of Ryan’s reach. "And I can't tell you how sick I am of hearing that. I don't feel lucky at all."

He didn't have to see Ryan’s face to feel his pained confusion. "Col, you can't mean that. You don't want…you wouldn't rather be…dead? Would you?"

"No!" he exploded. "'Course I don't wanna be dead." He struggled to his feet, needing to move, to face Ryan on an even level, tired of looking up at people. "But that doesn't mean I feel lucky. I wake up one morning to a shattered body and my life turned upside down. How is that lucky?"

He stepped forward, ignoring his body's frantic messages to stop. "My ankle hurts like a bastard. I can't be in any position too long or I get muscle spasms. I can't walk half a block without my lungs feeling like I have a ten pack a day cigarette habit. The man I’ve loved for fifteen years tells me he loves me back and all I’ve got is a floppy dick. He won’t even let me do more than kiss him.  Tell me how is that lucky?"

"Oh, Col, that'll wait." Ryan reached a hand toward him. "I don't expect anything right now. It's okay…"

He dodged his hand. "It's not okay. It's all bullshit. Nothing works. Everything is can't, can't, can't."

"But you're so much better than you were. If only you knew how bad it was…"

"But I don't remember!" His voice rose. "Don't you see that makes it worse. I don't have a fucking clue what happened. You could have thrown me off the roof for all I remember."

"I didn't." A small smile lifted Ryan’s lips. "Not that there haven't been times when I wanted to."

He gave a grunt in acknowledgement, struggling for words. He knew he'd never been an eloquent man and high emotions made it even worse.  On stage he could let rip with rage, rant to his heart’s content, but as the real Colin, not a character he was playing, he had a hard time finding the words to express what he felt.  He hated confrontation, had hated since he’d sat, stiff-lipped and seething, through his father’s screaming tirades.  And the last thing he wanted was to hurt Ryan, but he required his understanding. Ryan had to understand how all this was driving him crazy. How he needed to be capable. Of something. Anything.

"Col, I know…"

"You don't know." He cut Ryan off again, fighting to keep his voice even. "You've told me how bad it was. I look at myself and I can see I'm a mess. But it’s not the same as remembering. A month of my life is missing and if the doctors are right, I'll never get it back. You can't tell me that you know how that feels."

"You're right," Ryan held up his hands in a placating gesture. "I don't know. I can't. There's nothing I can do to give you that month back. But _I_ wouldn't mind being able to forget." He shivered. "It was the worst thing that's ever happened to us. That's why it's so hard for me to feel upset now." He took a deep breath to try to stop the shaking of his voice. "Every day I'd walk into that hospital and see you so close to death. A machine breathing for you. The nurses suctioning blood out of your lungs. Fevers they couldn't find a cause for. But then you got better. And you kept on getting better. And you're here now. Home. Don't you see what a miracle that is?"

Colin rubbed a shaking hand over his eyes. "It doesn't feel like a miracle to me. Feels like a fucking catastrophe." Holding up a hand, he forestalled the protest he could see on his tall friend’s lips. "I'm glad to be alive. I truly am. I like being alive!  But I hurt, Ryan. All the fucking time. I can't get away from it. I take the damned pills but they make me so stupid I can’t even read. Being lucky would have been avoiding the accident in the first place. This is hell."

"Oh, Col," Ryan sighed. "I would give anything to be able to help."

"I know. I know." Colin leaned back against the wall, balancing on his good leg. "I’m not blaming you.  It’s not your fault.  But you can’t expect me to be happy about,” his hand swept down his body, “this.  And you can’t do everything for me.”

“I like taking care of you,” Ryan admitted with a sheepish smile.

There was a large part of Colin that liked letting Ryan take care of him.  No one had ever cared enough about him before, been willing to watch out for him.  It was a novel feeling and he thought that he liked it.  But he’d been too independent too early in his life to accept it easily. 

“You try your damnedest, don't you, Ry? And I love you for it. But what about you, Ryan? Don't you think I can’t see what you're doing to yourself? You're running yourself ragged trying to take care of me and still keep up at the studio. You wake up ten times a night to make sure I'm still breathing. I want to take care of you too. But you won't let me help."

"Col," Ryan grimaced. "It takes all your energy just to get through rehab. And you push too hard there. The therapist said…"

"I don't care," he shouted. "I'm not fucking helpless, not anymore. There are things I can do."

"What?" Ryan snapped back, his own frustration finally breaking through. "You tried to do the laundry and ended up in such pain you could barely talk. You damn near collapsed doing dishes. I can't stand to see you in so much pain."

His eyes narrowed. "I can sort out the mail.  Do my own bills. Answer fan mail."

The tall man huffed out a laugh. "You hate doing fan mail."

"So do you.  I'm perfectly capable of doing it. And I can do my own bills.  I may not be able to walk without damned crutches but I can still add and subtract."

"It's just easier…"

"To do them yourself," he growled. "Aren't we supposed to be partners?   You’re not my boss, Ryan.  I shouldn't have to ask you to _let_ me help."

“I’m doing the best I can here.” Ryan shouted back. 

“Then be my partner, not my nursemaid.  You won’t even let me get out of the chair and go to the bathroom by myself.  You’re smothering me, Ryan.” 

His shoulders slumping, Ryan closed his eyes. "I’m sorry, Col, I really am," he sighed. "I don't mean to make you feel like that. It's just…I'm afraid. Is that what you want me to say?  Well, I am.  I’m terrified that you’ll end up back in the hospital.  You don't know your limits. You barely admit you have limits. You need to stop pushing so hard."

"So do you, Ry. You're exhausting yourself." He reeled Ryan in until he rested against his chest, now needing the physical contact, as he thought Ryan might also. "You say you don’t want to see me in the hospital, well, I don’t want to see you there either.  Especially not because of me. We've got to work out a better way."

Ryan nodded against his collarbone, his arms sneaking around Colin’s waist. "I can't tell you how tired I am."

"I know, Ry. It hurts to see you like this." Brushing his hair aside, he laid his cheek against Ryan’s. "Why don't you take the night off? Go do something silly.  Get a good night's sleep for once."

Ryan’s hair caught in his beard as he shook his head. "I couldn't. You're supposed to have someone here twenty-four/seven, remember?  And where would I go?"

He glanced at the clock. "Tell you what.  Call Drew.  He can always think of something fun to do.  Take advantage of that huge Jacuzzi he’s got.  Either way he or one of the guys can Colin-sit and you can get some rest.”

“It’s Friday afternoon, what if he’s got a date for tonight?”

“You won’t know till you call him.”

"You can't ask Drew to do…you know…the kind of…personal stuff I've been helping with."

He could feel the warmth of his own blush against Ryan’s cheek, his heart swelling with love. "I can skip the shower for one night. It won't hurt me. Everything else of a more personal nature, I can manage by myself. All someone has to do is cook.  Or we could order a pizza, or something.."

He could feel Ryan’s resistance waning. "It does sound nice. But I'd just worry about what kind of trouble you'd find."

"I promise to behave myself in your absence." He tilted his head back so he could read his taller friend’s face.

"Do I dare believe that?" A crooked grin lifted Ryan’s lips.

"Have I ever broken a promise to you?"

"No," he admitted readily.

"And I won't now. I promise I won't do anything more strenuous. Then I'll toddle off to bed early like a good boy."

"When have you ever been a good boy?"

"Starting tonight," he grinned back. "Really, Ryan, take tonight and don't worry about me. I’ll be fine. And you know if I did do something I'm not supposed to, Drew’d just rat me out."

Ryan gave a decisive nod. "All right, I will. Taking a night break from each other might be what we need to get our heads together. Tomorrow we can work out something we both can live with. When we’re both not so tired.  But I'll hold you to your word for tonight, mister."

"Scout's honor."

"You were never a boy scout."

"Never too late to start. Now get on the phone and give Drew a call."

"Alright, I will."

"And don't forget. I love you."


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, its been a little bit of a wait. But another idea hit me and I had to get that at least partially written before it left me.

**Chapter 25**

After two rings, Drew picked up his phone, “Drew Carey.”

“Hey, Drew.”

“Ryan,” Drew exclaimed happily.  “Hey, good to hear from you.  How you guys doing?”

“Well, to tell you the truth,” Ryan used his best woe-be-gone voice while sharing a sly smile with Colin.  “Colin is sick of me being here and he’s kicking me out of the house.”

“What?! Oh, no,” Drew cried.  “But you guys…you…it was all going…Ryan, it’s _your_ house.”

Ryan couldn’t stop his giggles at Drew’s indignation on his behalf.

“Wait a minute.” A short pause, then Drew laughed.  “You shithead.”

Colin pushed the button that put the call on the speaker phone.  “Hey, Drew, it’s Col.  Listen, Stick Boy here really does need to get out of the house for a while.  He’s exhausted and driving me crazy.  Could you take him for one night?”

“Take me?” Ryan retorted crossly.  “If he takes me, who’s gonna look after you?”

“I can look after myself.”

“No, you can’t, Colin.  We had this argument before…”

Colin slapped his hand over Ryan’s mouth.  “See what I’m putting up with, Drew.”

Drew laughed.  “Let’s see if we can come up with something.  Let’s see if I’ve got the dilemma here.  Ryan is super tired, but he feels like he has to look after you, right, Colin?”

“Right.”

“And Ryan, Colin wants to do more than you’re comfortable with, correct?”

“Yeah,” Ryan answered a bit sullenly.

“Okay, how about this?  Ryan, you come over to my house.  I’ve got that whole guest suite that hardly ever gets used.  Nice and quiet with a great Jacuzzi.  The guys and I will go over to your place.  We can shoot pool and stuff down in your game room plus make sure Colin doesn’t get into trouble.”

“The guys?” Colin asked with some interest.

“Yeah, Wayne, Greg and Brad were coming over.  I’ll just give them a call and say the party’s moving to your place.”

“I don’t know,” Ryan hesitated, then looked over to find Colin giving him his best sad-eyed puppy impression.  “Stop looking at me like that.  Colin, stop it.”  The dark eyes only got bigger and sadder.  He could hear Drew laughing in the background.  “All right, you win.”

“No one can resist that look, Ryan.  I don’t know why you try.” Drew chortled.  “Be here in about half an hour?”

“Yeah, half an hour or so.  You know where I leave the keys.”

 

* * *

           

Driving toward Drew’s house, Ryan considered going back. Work piled so high on his desk now, and he was supposed to take an afternoon off and relax? Just the thought of those stacks made him grind his teeth. But Colin was right about one thing. He was tired, exhausted really. Would one afternoon and evening really make that much difference in the amount of work on his desk? Maybe one good night of sleep would help prevent him from making some of the silly errors he'd been making lately.

At the intersection, he sat, still undecided. Right, back to the house, left, Drew’s place. Right or left? _You told Colin you'd take it easy tonight_ , a little voice reminded. _You don't want to start lying to him already, do you?_ Another little voice nagged everything that needed to be done.. With a sudden grin, he turned left. _The world can live without me for just one night_.

On a whim, he stopped at the small grocery near Drew’s place and bought the ingredients for chocolate cookies. He hadn't baked anything for longer than he could remember. Cookies, especially fresh baked out of the oven, always made him feel good. He’d never been much of a cook.  He could do it if he had to, there were even a few meals he enjoyed.  He did a mean chicken stir fry.  But he didn’t love it the way Colin did.  However baking cookies always brought back good childhood memories.

Soon he was happily mixing dough, not even needing to glance at a cookbook. His grandmother had taught him this recipe when he was still young enough to need a stepstool to see the counter. Ryan smiled at the memories. Grandma Annie was a strange mix of traditionalist and feminist. Having been raised on a farm, she'd worked just as hard in the fields as any of the boys. She’d firmly believed none of her grandchildren should be limited in what they chose to do with their lives. But she taught each and every one of them  - boys and girls alike - how to cook, bake and take care of a house and couldn't stop herself from cuddling any baby within reach. Ryan had always considered her one of his best role models.

Wiping the cookie sheets in preparation, Ryan startled when the doorbell rang. For a moment, he thought of not answering it. This wasn’t his house, after all.  Maybe one of the guys hadn’t gotten the message that the party was now at Ryan’s house, so he headed for the door, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Pat!" he greeted, surprised and more than a touch wary. He hadn't seen or talked to his ex-wife for months.

"Hi, Ryan.”

“How the hell did you know I was here?”

“I called the house.  Drew answered the phone and said you were here.  I've been trying to get a hold of you for a couple of weeks. Is everything okay?"

"Well…" he hesitated, not sure how much he wanted Pat to know. "The last six weeks haven't been much fun."

"What happened?"

"Colin was in a car accident."

"Oh, no! Is he okay?"

He was a little surprised to see her genuine concern. She and Colin had never been best buddies. "He will be. He just got out of the hospital a couple of weeks. He's doing much better now."

"Glad to hear that." Her lips twitched in a small, rueful smile. "I guess that explains why I couldn't get a hold of you. He’s staying with you?"

Ryan lifted his chin, not wanting hide any part of his relationship with Col. "Yeah, he has."

"Listen, can I come in? I'll only be a minute, just a couple of things I want to say to you."

Ryan hesitated. "I don't know, Pat. I really don't want to go over…"

"No, nothing like that." She grimaced, her eyes shifting down and leftward. "It's part of my program."

His eyebrows raised in surprise.  Alcohol had been Pat’s drug of choice at the end of their marriage.  Pat’s dependence on alcohol, his own long working hours, the fact they’d been unable to conceive the child they both had wanted so badly, all had contributed to the break-up of their marriage.  "Okay, come on in. But just for a minute."

Moving to the living room, they both stood in nervous silence for a long moment. Turning, Pat's eyes skittered around his face, to the floor and back to his face again.

"Part of my program is atoning to people I wronged when I was using. You're the first and most important." Her head come up, establishing firm eye contact. "I'm so sorry for what I put you through."

Ryan took a step back in shock. Pat had never apologized to him before, not about this. Excuses, oh, he'd heard excuses by the truckload. Never her fault, always the blame lay in his job, the lack of babies, in him. It's what had finally driven him out.

"I mean it, Ryan. I'm very sorry for how I treated you." Her lips quirked upward, then the smile faded from her face.  "I was wrong. For turning to booze because I couldn't cope with my own life. For blaming you for everything. For having an affair. For all the lies and betrayal. I was stupid and I was wrong."

"You still with him?" he whispered.

"No," she denied. "It just screwed up both of us, even worse. Running away from your problems doesn't help. I've got to start facing my responsibilities."

Ryan let himself smile. "So this new program is really helping?"

"Yeah, it is. They're tough on you, but I've been clean six months now."

"I'm so glad for you," he touched her hand.

She gave his hand a quick pat. "Thanks. Well, that's about all I wanted to say. I'm sorry I've been such a bitch and I hope we can someday be friends again."

"Pat," he frowned. "You're not hoping…"

"That we can get back together again?" she supplied. "No. No, that's…the past now…we really weren't meant to be, were we?"

"I did love you."

"I know. You loved me as much as you could. You always wanted the best for me." She adjusted his glasses with a nervous gesture. "But you never loved me like you love him, did you?"

He almost denied it, like he'd denied it for so many years of their marriage. No, not any more. "I'm sorry, Pat. I'm sorry I hurt you. I never cheated on you, but I do love him." A weight seemed to leave his shoulders as he said the words.

"I know." She looked down at her shuffling feet. "I guess I've always known."

"I never meant to hurt you. I really thought we could have a good marriage."

"And we did." She gave him a crooked smile. "At first. You stuck with me as long as I let you. I guess both of can take part of the blame. Does he know how much you love him?"

He couldn't keep the beaming smile off his face. "He does now. And he loves me back."

A second of anger and jealousy smoothed to a genuine smile. "I'm glad for you." She held up her hand at his quirked eyebrow. "Okay, a little bit jealous. But mainly I'm happy."

His smile melted into contrition. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be, Ryan. Like I said before, we just weren't meant to be. Just be happy."

"I am. I want you to be happy too."

"I working on it," she assured him. "Oh, something else I wanted to tell you. I’m moving to Buffalo."

"New York?"

"Yeah. You remember my sister, Joanie?” At his nod she continued.  “She moved out there last year and just loves it.  You know I’ve always hated LA."

"Is it what you want?"

She considered silently for a second. "Yeah. I think it'll be a really good thing for me. Sorta start with a clean slate again.  Maybe I’ll go back to school."

"I'm glad."

"Well, that's it," she slapped her hands together. "That's all I wanted to tell you. I'll get out of your hair now."

He walked her to the door. "Thank you for coming, Pat. It was very brave."

She twisted her face into a comical grimace. "I admit I was scared silly. But I feel better now that I've said it. Take care of yourself, Ryan. And tell Colin I hope he's feeling better."

"I will. Thank you." He leaned forward to press a small kiss on her cheek. "You take care of yourself too."

As he closed the door behind him, he leaned his head against it, trying to take in all he'd said.

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the wait. I'm too old to be working 12 hour days. And next week I have to travel for work, so the next chapter won't be until Thursday or Friday at the earliest.

**Chapter 26**

Colin slapped the laptop shut with a flourish of triumph. After Ryan left, he'd taken the new meds the doctor had switched him to after he'd complained about how loopy the old ones made him feel. And they were doing a darn good job. The throbbing in his ankle had decreased to a tolerable ache, his back felt loose for the first time in days, yet his mind was still relatively clear. He'd used the respite from pain in an attempt to ease Ryan's workload. Booting up his laptop, he’d been able to organize his own bills, deleted a bunch of crap from his personal email account, then sent off a few emails of his own. _See, I can be useful_ , he patted himself on the back.

Just as he was thinking of taking the long trek into the kitchen for a celebratory libation, the doorbell rang.  Then rang again.

“Hang on,” he shouted, gathering up his crutches.  “I’ll be there as fast as I can.” 

Greetings and hugs were exchanged as the guys crowded into the entryway.  “We come bearing gifts,” Greg waved the pizza boxes beneath Colin’s appreciative nose.

Brad lifted up the case of beer.  “Booze for us.”  He lifted his other hand holding a six pack of Canada Dry ginger ale.  “For you we got something to remind you of home.”

Just behind them were Wayne and Drew holding their own boxes.

“And what have you guys got?”

“We’ll show you that later.  Right now we’re all starving.  Let’s eat.”

Crowding around the table, the guys grabbed slices of their favorite pizza and helped themselves to the beer.  “Hear there’s trouble in paradise,” Brad slurred through his mouthful of pizza.  “You guys fighting already.”

Looking around, Colin grimaced at the fake disappointment on his friend’s faces.  "No, no fight," he reassured them. "Well, maybe we did raise our voices a little. But it was really just a disagreement…that got a little loud."

"Colin!"

"Don't give me that tone. It was just a disagreement. Ryan’s working himself to death trying to do everything himself, including taking care of me. I convinced him he needed a break."

“He a little over protective?” Greg guessed.

“You could say that.  He’ll hardly let me get up out of the chair.”

“Well, we’ll help out with that.  After we feed our faces.  Bradley, don’t hog all the sausage.”

 

* * *

 

After only one slice of pizza, Colin’s stomach felt comfortable full.  He’d learned the hard way that the way to gain back much needed weight was not to eat too much at one sitting.  “So what do you guys have planned for me?”

“Well,” Greg turned from finishing cleaning off the table.  “I think the first thing we should do is remove that unfortunate facial hair from your person.”

"And you don't think I can shave myself?" Colin queried with a touch of annoyance.

“I’m sure you can,” Wayne soothed.

“But I think it’d be so much fun,” Drew put in.

“If you let us do it.” Brad finished, clapping his hands in glee.

“Really, you’re just hiding those adorable dimples in all that ratty fur.”   

Colin knew he was in trouble, but he decided he'd let them have their way with the beard. He did draw the line at playing dress-up, however. Well…maybe…depending on where Ryan's tastes ran.

"Okay, okay. Do what you want with the beard."

Brad ran off to the bathroom to get the shaving gear, while the others looked at each other with conspiring expressions. "What do you think we should do with it? Trim it down? Take it all off?  Or maybe give him one of those droopy mustache things he could twirl."

"Hey, I'm no melodrama villain."

Greg grinned evilly, ignoring his input. "Let's just get started and see what we can come up with."

Colin knew he was in very big trouble.

Over the next hour, the guys had tried every style of facial hair they could imagine.  Quite disappointed that the beard wasn’t quite long enough to braid, Wayne managed to dexterously braid the hair at each temple into what he called a warrior plait.  Tiny patches of beard disappeared and others were trimmed and sculpted. Cell phones also appeared to keep a proper historical record of the proceedings.

Goatee with mutton-chop sideburns, “Okay, Colin, do your hamster impression.  Great, now how about the enthusiastic puppy.”

Goatee.  “Film noire.”

Fu-Manchu mustache. “I wanna see your seal, Col.”  “Arrh.  Arrh.”

After much giggling, they decided he was best clean shaven, to his inordinate relief.

  

* * *

 

 

"What do you have in that bag you lugged over here,Wayne?"

"It’s my Wii. I thought we could play some games. I read that physical therapists like to use it to help patients regain muscle strength and coordination."

"And you think it’s something your broken old friend needs?" He couldn’t contain a tiny bit of anger beneath his teasing grin.

"It'll be fun, Col, really. And if it helps you out a little bit too, why not?"

"I'll suppose I can give it a try," still not totally convinced.

It took only a few minutes for Brad and Wayne to have all the wires connected, the sensor in place and the Wii powered up. "First we have to make you a Mii," Wayne explained as he clicked the correct box.

"Wha?"

"A Mii…an avatar. It'll represent you in the games."

"So that little guy is supposed to be me?" Colin squinted at the screen. "I don't look like that, do I?"

"Well, I can give him a little less hair," earned Wayne a cuff to the shoulder.

Brad grabbed the other controller and started designing a Mii for Greg and Drew.  “You want glasses or not, Drew?”

"Sure, give me glasses."

Wayne inserted the disc with some of the basic games. "Oh, here's a shooting game. You'll like that." He connected the controllers to the plastic guns. "And we can all play.  Just pass the controller around."

Soon they were blasting away at ducks, targets, balloons and tin cans. "Colin Mochrie, you're not supposed to shoot me!" Drew protested.

"Sure I am," he grinned unrepentantly. "Look how many points I got."

The final stage involved saving a whole gaggle of their little Mii's who were running around in a panic trying to avoid an invasion of UFOs. "Colin, save me!" Drew giggled so hard he couldn't focus enough to shoot his own gun. "Don't let 'em kidnap me! Save me!"

Fiercely focused, Colin picked off the marauding aliens with amazing accuracy. "Oh, no you don't," he growled at the screen.

"That one in the corner," Greg bounced on the couch. "Get him. All right. Good shot, Col."

The last UFO in flames, the Mii's lined up, only one missing from their number, and cheered their safety. Rising, the four guys who could did a victory dance, then collapsed into back onto the couch.  They immediately began fighting over who got to play next.

 

* * *

 

 

Ryan leaned back into his idea of heaven. A warm Jacuzzi, soft music, a plate of freshly baked cookies on a tray in front of him with a big glass of chocolate milk. Life didn't get much better than this.  Only Colin’s presence would have made it better.

He let his thoughts drift over Pat's visit. When she'd been there, he'd been so shocked he could barely respond. Now he let himself consider all she'd said. Simple confirmation it hadn't been all his fault was amazingly…freeing. Oh, he'd told himself a million times, as had Col, that Pat carried some of the blame. But there'd always been a small voice that told him he was the one who'd screwed it all up. He should have been home more, been more supportive. He should have been able to give her children. That's he just wasn't a very good husband.  He should have loved Pat more and Colin less.

Now Pat's simple apology silenced that little voice. Oh, he still bore some of the responsibility. It was over. They hadn't been able to make it work, because the two of them together didn't work.

His cell phone interrupted his gentle musing. Glancing at the screen, he saw his own landline.

"Hey, Col."

"Hey, Ry." Ryan smiled just from hearing his voice. "How's your night off?"

"Wonderful. You were right. I needed this."

"I'm always right," he could hear the smirk in Colin's voice.

"Well, not always, but about this you were." He conceded. "Is Drew there?"

"Yup, him, Brad, Wayne and Greg. Hey, Drew," he called. "Pick up the extension and prove to Ryan that's you're here."

"Hey, Ryan, getting unstressed?"

"Sure am," He smiled. "I'm in the Jacuzzi and eating some chocolate chip cookies I just baked."

"Oh, chocolate chip," Drew groaned. "Hope you saved some for us?"

"Drew, don't beg," Colin chastised lightly.

"I baked a double batch, so there's plenty for everyone," he grinned. "What have you guys been up to? Colin hasn't been getting into mischief, has he?"

"No, he's been good. We've been playing some games. I powned him in table tennis."

"Table tennis!" he gasped, knowing he didn’t have a table tennis rig in his house.

"Video games," Colin assured him. "I didn't leave my chair. And I…what was that word, Wayne?"

"Powned. Positively owned."

"Yeah, powned them all in the shooting game."

"And he saved me from being kidnapped by space aliens."

"Yup, downed every one of them," Colin informed Ryan smugly.

"I'm glad you guys had a good time," He said through his laughter.

"We did. Now say good night, Drew, so I can talk to Ryan."

"Sure. Good night, Ryan. Don't worry about Colin, we’re taking good care of him."

"I know.  Thanks, Drew."

"Have a good night and see you tomorrow, right?"

"I'll be back tomorrow," he confirmed.

"Night, Ryan." And Drew dropped off the line.

"Are you really de-stressing, Ry?" Colin murmured, his low voice doing sinful things to Ryan’s insides.

"Yeah, I feel much better. But you know, the strangest thing happened."

"What?"

"Pat dropped over. I haven't talked to her for almost six months."

"And what did that b…she want?" Colin growled.

"She wanted to apologize."

There was a moment of silence over the line. "Apologize?"

"Yeah, stunned me, too."

"She's not trying to get back together with you?"

"No," he soothed Colin’s suspicions. "In fact she's moving to live near her sister.  She just wanted to apologize. Said it was part of her program to atone to people she's wronged."

Another long silence. "That's good. I guess."

“It’s good,” Ryan affirmed.  “Put the past behind us and we can move forward?" He leaned back, letting himself slid down into the tub.

"I'm practically living with you now, Ryan."

"Isn't it grand?" he smiled.

"Well, I think we might have some kinks to work out."

"Sure," he agreed amiably. "Par for the course.

“Well, the guys wore me out with the videos games and I'm keeping you from your bubbles, so I think I'll say good night now."

"Okay, we've got the rest of the weekend to try to work out some of the kinks. Go ahead and go to bed."

"It'll be lonely without you there."

"Yeah, for me too, but I'll be home tomorrow."

"Home," he whispered. "That sounds good."

"I love you, Col."

"Best lullaby I've heard. I love you too. See you tomorrow."

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Ryan stood on his own doorstep, debating whether to ring the doorbell or just use his key. For some reason it seemed rude to just barge in, but ringing the bell to your own home felt really stupid.  Decided, he turned the key in the lock, opened the door and let himself in. "Honey, I'm home," he called, feeling both silly and incredibly happy to be back.

"Hey, Ryan, be right there."

After hanging up his coat, the sound of wheels rolling across the hardwood floor spun his head. Colin appeared, kneeling backward in his office chair, using his good leg to skate himself down the hallway. "Hey, Ry," he grinned. "Like my new wheels?"

"Pretty sporty, Col." Ryan returned his grin. "You seem in a remarkable better mood today."

"It's those new meds they’ve got me on," Colin informed him, wheeling himself next to Ryan. He leaned over the back of the chair to give the taller man a quick peck on the lips. "It's great not to hurt but still be able to think. You look 100% better too. C'mon, help me finish up breakfast."

Ryan scurried to keep up with him. "You made breakfast?"

"Yeah, nothing special, just oatmeal. Added a bit of peaches and it's not bad, if I do say so myself."

“Where’s Drew?  Did he head home?”

“Nah, he stayed over to make sure I didn’t get into any trouble.  He’s still in bed.  You know he never gets up before noon unless he’s shooting.”

Ryan marveled at how the absence of pain gave Colin back some of his old energy. Like the days in the not so distant past where Ryan often had to trot to keep up with him. "Those pills seem to be really working for you."

"They are." Colin stopped suddenly, his face thoughtful. "I think I was getting a bit depressed, yeah."

Ryan stopped himself, beyond surprised Colin would admit such a thing. "I'd be amazed if you didn't get a little depressed, with all you've been through."

"I suppose. Anyway, the pills don't make everything easier, but my head isn't all muddled up so I can think of different ways of trying to do things."

"Hence, the new vehicle," Ryan smiled, not wanting to admit how aroused this new energetic Colin made him. How much he'd missed Colin’s presence in only the one day he'd been away.

"Be a love and grab the bowls and spoons." Colin swung himself around until he was properly seated in the chair. "I'll take them now, if you'll get the oatmeal."

With a grin and the eating utensils stacked in his lap, Colin propelled himself backward into the dining room. Once divested of his cargo, he looked up at Ryan and the grin became something more predatory.

"Come 'ere," he commanded. "Give me a proper hello."

Ryan let himself be pulled sideways onto Colin’s lap while Colin’s arms came around him and his face lifted to kiss Ryan. There was no subtle foolery, no dissembling, not from the first. The kiss was wholly sexual, wet and filled with motion. Colin tilted his head back, opened his lips and stroked Ryan’s teeth and tongue. Ryan looped his arms around his friend’s neck and let it happen…and happen…until his heart seemed to expand against his ribs, leaving little room for his lungs to fill and empty. They tasted and stroked each other in the way each had imagined many times, in a whorl of sleek tongues and moist lips, while a full minute slipped away and then two. In the middle of that time, Ryan shifted on Colin’s lap, dropping to one side, Colin bending above him until they were twisted together like a pair of tree trunks from a long-ago storm.

It ended lingeringly, with an easing of Colin’s hold and a slow unwinding of their bodies until Ryan’s face was again above his friend’s. Their lips parted but stayed close, their breathing strident. Colin’s hands rested lightly on Ryan’s sides.

Colin spoke first, in a voice half-trapped in his throat. "I didn't think I'd be able to choke down anything, thinking of kissing you. Now that it's out of the way, we can have some breakfast."

Ryan slipped from his lap to take his own seat. They picked up their spoons and each ate a bite. The air around them seemed smothering, as if it contained too little oxygen for their needs. He glanced up and saw Colin watching him, his elbows on the table, his spoon leaving his lips. Suddenly, the dearth of physical affection seemed to catch Ryan like the crack of a whip. It coiled around his body, lowered the spoon from his hand and hauled him from his chair back to Colin.

It happened so fast. One moment he was safely seated. The next he was standing above Colin,  his hands on his beloved’s face, lifting it, bending above it and picked up where they'd left off moments ago. And ten seconds after that – without a break in the kiss – he had thrown one leg over Colin’s lap and straddled him, striking the table edge with his hip, then taking a ride with Colin as he pivoted his chair at a sharper angle away from the table.

Colin’s arms slip low, pulling Ryan flush against him. Ryan embraced him from his high vantage point, kissing Colin’s warm supple mouth while Colin’s hands slid around the backs of his thighs and cupped them gently from behind, near the bend of his knees. They shared the flavor of peaches and cream from within each other's mouths and that sleek fit of two tongues mating, of lips sliding in an endless quest. They had been through so much together for so long it felt like a reward which they shared. They did so, however, sitting smack in view of the stairs, while his mind clamored, _Don't come down yet, Drew, please don't come down_.

When things got too crazy inside him, he drew back, as one drugged, realizing he had to get off Colin’s lap. "I have to…"

Colin’s open mouth cut off the words. His arms snapped Ryan back where he'd been and Colin’s shoulder blades came away from the chair. They'd played the song and dance so long that they explored now with exquisite relief, tasting each other and letting their feelings carry the reckless moment. Ryan moved his hips, feeling a reaction he hadn't expected.

They ended the kiss mutually, if reluctantly.

Though their mouths parted, their eyes refused. They sat beguiled, breathing hard, a little stunned, Colin’s hands still cupping the back of Ryan’s thighs in his tight blue jeans.

"Drew could come down," he whispered and slowly swung his leg off, Colin’s right hand trailing around his kneecap, lingering there until Ryan reluctantly backed off and returned to his chair.

"That was a bit of alright," Colin grinned, reaching down to adjust his sweatpants.

"Did I really feel…"

"Yeah," he affirmed smugly. "Not enough to be doing anything important yet. But it’s not dead."

Ryan couldn't contain his slow sensual smile.

"God, you're so sexy when you look at me like that," Colin breathed.

"Is that Ryan I hear?" came a call from the upper level.

Ryan grinned at Colin’s look of exaggerated distress. "Yeah, Drew, I'm back."

"I'll be right down."

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the weekend was spent in quiet togetherness. They ate together, watched movies together, read side by side and played video games together. They roared with laughter, uttered dire threats, and wiped away tears at a particularly heartwrenching scene in a romantic movie. Ryan couldn't remember a time when he'd felt so content. But his happiness was overlaid with a fierce anticipation, an eagerness to go further with Col, to sample again his physical enticements. The few moments at the dining room table hadn't been nearly enough to sate Ryan.  Only one obstacle stood in their way.  The doctor’s restrictions Colin still had to follow.  No lifting over five pounds.  And no sex.

So for now he had to content himself with the fire in Colin’s eyes when he looked at him. The stroke of his hand every time Ryan got within arm's reach. Watching TV within the circle of his arms. Falling asleep with Colin’s head against his chest. It was enough, for now, barely, this mating dance.

"You know, Ry, I didn't think I'd ever say this," Colin whispered against his stomach. Colin had pulled him into the vee of his legs when Ryan had stood to get them something to drink. Colin’s hands came up to cup his backside. "But I can't wait for my doctor’s appointment tomorrow."

"I know," Ryan whispered back, one hand entangling itself the hair at the nape of Colin’s neck. His breath caught as Colin’s tongue darted out to lick at his wrist. "Just one more night."

"Ummm," Colin agreed, nuzzling Ryan’s belly, demonstrating he could make short work of buttons without using his hands. Ryan’s own hands found their way down the neck of his shirt, over his jutting collarbone. "It's been good though," Colin’s hands trailed up and down the back of his thighs. "I mean this is good." He kissed the inside of Ryan’s elbow, his tongue tracing a pattern against his skin. "Very good." Fingers slipped up the inseam of his jeans, making him shiver. "And it'll get even better, I promise." A warm tongue found its way to his navel. "But just being together. That's good too, isn't it? We have more than just…" Ryan had never known the back of his knees could be so sensitive. "…this?"

"We do, Col. We always have," he groaned. "More than I ever hoped for." He stepped back, dangerously close to ripping their clothes off and ignoring any restriction. Right there in the middle of the living room. "Stop it now. I love you but you're making me crazy."

"I'm trying my best," Colin smirked, reluctantly relinquishing his hold.

"You're succeeding," Ryan shook his head, pulling his shirt back into a semblance of order, redoing the moist buttons. "But something tells me that's not anywhere near your best."

Colin gave a roguish grin. "You may be right. But you'll have to wait until the doctor says it’s okay."

"So will you, buddy." Ryan gave him a playful cuff to the side of the head before continuing his journey to the kitchen. "Want a bottle of water?"

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

Monday afternoon found them in Dr. Slaugard's office. As usual, in doctor's offices, they were already fifteen minutes past the time of their appointment and still cooling their heels in the waiting room. Although they'd both brought a book to read, Ryan was showing signs of agitation, bouncing his right leg, heel tapping rhythmically on the floor.

Placing his hand on his knee to stop the motion, Colin leaned over to whisper, "Ry, relax."

"They should have someone like Dan running the office," he replied, his voice quiet but carrying. “He would never let us be this late."

Colin had to agree. Dan didn’t even allow them bathroom breaks if the show was running long. "I know. But there's nothing you can do about it, so just relax."

Slouching back into the chair with a grumble, Ryan picked up one of Colin’s crutches and began examining it. Colin grimaced, hoping fervently his name would be called soon. Very soon. For Ry was showing signs of incipient boredom and nothing scared him more than a bored Ryan.

Thankfully only another five minutes passed before a nurse called his name. When he was up, balanced on his crutches, he turned back to Ryan.

"You wanna come back with me?"

Ryan breathed a sigh of relief. Yes, he desperately wanted to be present for Colin’s recheck, but he'd decided he needed to back off a bit, concerning Colin’s medical status. He'd been the one in charge for so many weeks it was hard to pull back, but he knew Colin needed to take back control of his life. Starting here.

"You want me there?"

"Sure," Colin gave a sharp nod. "You've probably got a lot of questions to ask. You know more what's happened then I do."

"I'd like to go in with you, if you don't mind."

"Let's go then."

A short while later, Ryan discovered at least part of the reason Colin had invited him back. After the nurse had weighed him and taken his vitals, the doctor appeared shortly thereafter. As Ryan went through his list of questions, Colin sat silently, lounging back in his chair, hands draped casually on his belly. He looked the epitome of relaxation but Ryan recognized the attitude all too well. The clever brain analyzing without the pressure of interaction. Even though he’d gained confidence since Ryan had first met him, Colin still had difficulties dealing with people he didn’t know well.  Ryan didn’t mind at all being Colin’s buffer.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask, Mr. Mochrie?" the surgeon asked.

"No," Colin replied blandly. "Ryan's doing just fine."

Ryan sighed, shaking his head, partly in amusement, though he fought not to let Colin see that.

"Why don't you take off your shirt and we can get this over with?"

Colin stripped off his shirt and climbed up on the examining table. Slaungard poked and prodded, listened and thumped, while Ryan was now the one carefully watching his face. He seemed quite pleased with what he found.

"Would you like to get these staples out?"

A grin spread over Colin’s face. "You're damned right I would."

It took only a couple minutes for the doctor to snip and slip free all forty-three staples. The miniscule drops of blood that appeared at a few of the sites were quickly wiped away.

"Oh, and I'm lifting your restrictions. Doesn't mean you'll be able to do everything you could do before the accident, at least not yet. But you're not going to kill yourself if you try. The incision's healed well enough that you don't have to worry about straining it. And your lungs sound pretty good, considering. Your body will tell you what you can and can't do for here on out. Keep on your rehab schedule and we'll see you again in two weeks."

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent in a weird combination of exhilaration, apprehension, nerves, joy and tension. With Colin’s restrictions being lifted Ryan knew tonight would be the moment, the point of no return. Neither one of them talked about what they anticipated happening that night. Neither of them had to, it stood between them like the proverbial elephant in the room.

As Ryan sat at the edge of the bed, he pondered his own nervousness. He wanted it, _needed_ it, but still he was scared beyond rational measure. What if it didn't work between them? What if Colin couldn't? What if he couldn’t?  What if he didn’t like it?  What if taking this step ruined everything? What if? What if? What if?

Colin appeared in the doorway, shirtless, his sweatpants slung obscenely low on his hips.  He approached the bed, leaned his crutches against the wall, then turned to look over his shoulder.   Finding the brush Ryan had left on the dresser, he picked it up and came to stand behind him. Ryan followed him with his eyes until Colin was above him and he was gazing up at him.

His eyes closed as Colin ran the brush over the crown of his head, brushing the hair repeatedly with slow calming strokes. Ryan almost purred with the delicious sensation.  He hadn’t known having someone else brush his hair would feel this good.  Then Colin’s hands went slowly around the front of his neck until, under his hair, Ryan felt his thumbs pushing his head up. When he straightened it, he felt the warmth of Colin flattened against his back. His first kiss was laid lightly upon the hair he'd just finished brushing.

"I've never been this nervous before," Colin admitted, in what he was sure was meant to be a conversational tone. "Not even my first time."

"I know," Ryan forced the words from his constricted throat. "Me too."

"I've waited so long, loved you so long. Now I'm afraid of screwing it all up."

"It'll be alright, Col," he soothed both of them. "Better than alright."

"Kiss me, Ryan."

As always, he did what Colin wanted because it was what he wanted too.

Their first kiss was a desperate thing without finesse - two starving people with mouths open and bodies straining.  Like bends of a knot they turned into one another, trying to make two halves into a whole.  The kiss changed directions as they tried a new slant on an old pleasure.  Colin made a tortured sound, burrowing upward as if close were not close enough.

“Ryan…" he breathed before silence became their ally.

Only silence, mingling with his disbelief that he was here with this man, doing this incredible thing, feeling Ryan’s hands on him.

Ryan’s arms coiled around Colin’s neck and his mouth pressed to the warm hollow behind Colin's jaw.  He tasted it, made a small wet patch on the smoothly shaved neck, and the scent became flavor on his tongue.

"You taste good," he said.

"Hm-mmm," Colin singsonged.

Colin tumbled Ryan onto the bed.  They fell in one swift motion and silent except for their harsh breathing.

They explored with a shared sense of wonder, first with their eyes open, then with eyes closed, kissing tenderly, then not so tenderly as some primal force took control.

Colin tore his mouth away and his shaking voice was at Ryan ear. "I love you so much."

"Oh, Col," Ryan could hear the hunger and longing in his own voice. "I love you. Please."

Ryan rolled with him, and spread his limbs at Colin’s bidding, and let him kiss him in the most intimate of places.  Their coupling was restricted by Colin’s physical limitations, but still greedy and untamed, a splendid natural compulsion carrying them from one pleasure to another. They explored poses balletic and profane, submitting completely to the unutterable joy of this act.

Once he whispered, "Oh, Col…" because there were no words to do justice to what he felt.

And Colin answered in kind, repeating his name, "Ryan…Ryan…" because he, too, found no other words adequate.

Much later, Colin whispered, "Like this?"

And he breathed, 'Yes…" arching his throat. "…my God…my God…my God…"

"Ry…oh, God, Ry…I still can't believe…I'm with you…and doing this."

They were flying free and making up for so much lost time.

When Ryan climaxed, Colin stifled his cry with his mouth. When Colin climaxed, Ryan watched. In paroxysm he was beautiful, bowed back with his jaw fallen open and his breath strident. Ryan touched his damp brow and ran a finger into his open mouth, which settled closed as his eyes came open.

"I love you." He loved the joy that overtook Colin’s face.

"Say it again."

"I love you," he repeated, with wonder seizing his soul, quite stunned by the force of the words. "Oh, God, I do, I love you."

"You're everything to me." Colin murmured against his hair.

There had been, in Ryan's life, no moment as magnificent as this, saying the words, meaning them, manifesting their love in this most perfect way.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Ryan woke just as dawn was brightening the sky, feeling someone watching him. Blinking sleep-gummed eyes, he unmashed his face from the pillow to find Colin propped on one elbow above him.

"Good morning, sunshine," he smiled sleepily. "It's early, though, even for you."

"Good morning, Ry." Colin’s smile didn't quite reach his eyes. What Ryan did see on his expressive features made his heart thump hard in his chest.

"Doubts already, Col?" he forced through his suddenly dry mouth.

"Doubts…fears…contemplating the mysteries of the universe," Colin replied pensively.

He regulated his breathing, trying to calm the incipient panic. "Anything in particular…or just generally _us_?"

"I love you, Ry." Colin leaned to press a lingering kiss against his lips.

He responded freely, but held himself back from pushing it further. He knew he could distract Colin from his doubts, but he'd rather bring them out into the open now, before they had time to fester. "I love you, too. But…"

"There's no but about me loving you." Colin smiled in obvious sincerity. "Sometimes I wonder why you would love me though.  I’m nobody’s idea of a catch.  Especially not now."

"You'd be surprise how many people would love to catch you, Col.  But the only thing that matters is that you're _my_ idea of a catch.  This isn't about last night, is it? I thought last night was fantastic.”

“Didja?” A shy smile crossed Colin’s lips.  “I'm not quite up to par yet…"

He smiled up atColin, fingers swirling in his chest hair. "Last night was beautiful, perfect… I don't want to swell your ego but last night was probably the best sex I've ever had."

Colin couldn't stop a slightly smug grin, but he had to admit, "For me, too.  Even if my body couldn't do everything I wanted yet, I've never felt so…so…together. You know? But good sex does not guarantee a good relationship.”

"I know that, but it is a mark in the Pro column, isn't it? Sensational sex shouldn't make those doubts churn around in that adorable head of yours."

"You and Pat had…have sensational sex too, didn’t you?"

"Yeah, we had good sex. At first.  We also had horrible fights, weeks we refused to talk to each other. We may have had chemistry together but it was the worst kind. Pat and I together are like thunder and lightning, a lot of noise and destruction. What you and I have is different. Like…like…a spring dawn…creative instead of destructive…"

"Are you getting poetic, Ry?" Colin’s smile was teasing but not mocking, touched with emotion.

"If I am, it’s you that makes me feel like that."

"I do love you."

"And I love hearing you say it. But I can see you're still not sure about making a commitment."

Screwing his eyes shut, he sighed. "It's such a big step, so soon."

Scooting himself up against the headboard, he pulled Colin back against his chest. He was fairly sure he could manipulate Colin into saying yes to his proposal of marriage. He knew Colin too well not to know where his buttons lay. But he also knew, if they wanted any chance of a lasting relationship, Colin had to come into it whole heartedly and without reservation. It had to be his choice.

"You said you thought it was too soon. What worries you about that?"

He could feel Colin’s frown against his collarbone. "I guess I'm afraid our feelings will change once we start to get back to a normal routine. I’ve heard making decisions after an intense experience isn't usually a good idea."

"But your accident didn't really change our feelings, did it?" Ryan countered. "It only made us admit them. I've loved you a long time, Col. And I vowed to myself when you were in the hospital, I wouldn't waste any more time when we could be together. We've danced around each other for much too long now."

"I've loved you too, since the first time I laid eyes on you.  But we’ve really only known each other a couple of years.  Do you really know me well enough to say you want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

"Hmmm, how well do I know you?" Ryan replied meditatively. "I know on stage you can be risk-taking to the point of recklessness but in real life introverted to the point of brooding," He pulled Colin tighter against him, nestling their cheeks together, taking some of the sting out of his words. "You can be shy to the point of paralysis, self-negating to the point of letting other people walk all over you."

"Anything else I should know about this wuss?" Colin tried to joke, a little stunned.

"Actually yes." His tone softened. "You'd give me the shirt off your back if I was cold, a shoulder to cry on when I'm sad, intellectual discussions that make my head spin when I'm bored, a night of unbridled passion that will still bring a smile to my face when I'm ninety-seven, and the loyal friendship of a St. Bernard until the day I die. That's what makes you so dangerous, Col. Underneath all the protective coloration, you're a helluva great guy – you've got a charm all your own."

"Thank you…I think."

"I know you pretty well already, don't I?" he marveled.

"No one knows me better, Ry," he answered truthfully. "Not even me."

"And I think you know me almost as well.”

“Searching for compliments, Ry,” Colin grinned.  “OK, you’ve got a quick temper, but it generally burns out fast and you don’t hold grudges.  You can be possessive and jealous, only about people not about things.  You don’t care about things that much…well, except your fancy shoe collection.  You can be shy, but you cover it up better than me.  And all those good things you said about me are true for you, too.  You’re one of the few people in this world I trust, Ry.”    

“We’re opposites in a lot of ways.  But we’re strong in each other’s fragile places.”    

“And we’re not going to change much, are we, either one of us?"

"Sorry, I wouldn't count on it."

"So, what's the point in waiting? Let's get married!"

Ryan pulled Colin down for a long, wet, soul-sucking kiss, Colin letting himself be dragged onto his lap.  Ryan’s fingers encountered the long thick scar down the center of Colin’s chest and skittered away. Capturing them, Colin held them against himself.

"Please don't be afraid of touching me. Anywhere." he whispered against Ryan’s neck.

"It doesn't hurt?" Ryan leaned back enough to see his face.

"Nope. Can't feel anything…well, gets a little itchy around the edges." Colin guided Ryan’s hand to scratch lightly at the edge of the scar. "Your nails are just the right length for a good scratch."

“Let’s see where else I can scratch.”

 

* * *

  

Later that week, Ryan had given up trying to convince Colin he wasn’t ready to go back to Whose Line. They reached a compromise that they would wait until the following weekend and that rehab would stay his priority. And there were certain games he wouldn’t be participating in.  They spent their evenings, talking together, making plans of their future life; plans for getting the rest of Colin's stuff from Toronto, plans on where they would live (not LA), whether they wanted children (not right away, but they both like the thought of adoption in the future).

Now all Ryan had to do was figure out how to plan a Welcome Back party without Colin wiggling it out of him.

* * *

 

"There's not going to be a party, right?" Colin queried for the hundredth time as they made the drive through downtown.

"I have no knowledge of any party," Ryan answered entirely truthfully.

"Hmmm...you don't know about anyone else planning a party?" Colin continued the interrogation.

Ryan hedged just a tiny bit, "No one has said anything to me about a party."

"But you did tell them I'm coming back."

"Of course I did.  We wouldn’t be taping this weekend if you weren't going to be there. Drew didn't tell me anything about a party, but I have no idea what they might have planned."

"So there might be a party," he exclaimed triumphantly.

Ryan couldn't keep the grin off his face. "Col, did anyone ever tell you that you're very contrary? You've told me a hundred times you don't want a party, but every time one is mentioned your eyes dilate."

"Do not."

"I'm the one looking in them and yes, they do."

"So you did plan a party!"

"No, Col, you said you didn't want one, so I didn't plan a party."

"Oh…but someone else might have."

"I think we've determined that, yes."

"Okay," he settled back into his seat as if he'd won an argument. Ryan smirked inwardly, careful to keep his face blank.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it, the last chapter, except for the epilogue. I hope you enjoyed. I'm a little sad to see it come to an end myself.

**Chapter 30**

Colin had gotten quite good with his crutches, forcing Ryan to scramble to keep up as they made their way across the studio parking lot. 

Ryan pointed toward the audience entrance.  “Looks like we’ll have a full house today.”

“They started lining up last night,” the security guard at the performer’s entrance told them.  “We’ve been turning people away for hours.  Mr. Mochrie, it’s so good to have you back." Ryan saved one of Colin’s crutches from falling on the ground as Colin returned the hug one-armed. "We were all so worried about you."

"Thanks, Frank.  It’s good to be back." Grabbing back his crutch, he headed into the building.

Colin wobbled to a halt as he found the entire crew of Whose Line waiting in the hallway.  He found himself being hugged, thumped on the back, and cried over by every one of the crew. Despite all his protests, he was deeply touched, tears occasionally blurring his vision. Ryan stayed at his side, telling small stories of his hospitalization and recovery, never overly dramatic, never dimming the mood of the crowd, yet spreading an appreciating of what he'd…they'd endured. Nearly an hour later, Colin found himself plopped in a chair in his dressing room, his bad ankle propped up on pillows, a huge plate of food in front of him.

“What’s that?” Colin pointed toward the sheet of cardboard bigger than he was in the corner.

“Oh,” Ryan flushed lightly.  “We did this the day after your accident.  We were going to give it to you when you woke up, but that took so long…I guess I just forgot about it.”

“What is it?”

Turning the board around, Ryan set it in from of him.  “Get Well card.”

A figure wrapped up like a mummy in gauze lying in a hospital bed under a banner of ‘Get Well Soon, Colin’ had been drawn on the front.  When Ryan opened the card, Colin’s eyes grew wide, his jaw dropping open.  Hundreds of signatures covered both sides of the inside of the card.

“My God, how…” Colin stuttered.

“On the top right are all of our cast and crew.  Right below, the guys from The Drew Carey Show signed it.  Some of your other friends stopped in too.  They’re in the middle on the right.”  Colin saw not just signatures but hundreds of little messages.  All for him.  “The rest is the audience.  The day after your accident we had whoever in the audience who wanted to sign the card.  As you can see the entire audience did.” 

“Wow,” Colin could barely speak through the lump in his throat.

“And you should see the boxes of fan mail we’ve got waiting for you,” Drew spoke from the doorway.

“Boxes?” Colin squeaked.

“A trailer load full,” Drew confirmed.

“Don’t ever say you’re not loved again,” Ryan whispered in his ear.

Reaching down, Drew embraced his gaping friend.  “Welcome back, buddy.”

Greg and Wayne stood just behind Drew.  “Colin!” Greg exclaimed.  “It’s good to see you looking…”

Colin saw a warning look pass from Ryan to Greg.

“One hundred percent better.” Greg ended with a smirk at Ryan.

“You look good, Colin,” Wayne assured him.

Colin looked over his friends dubiously.  “Thanks, I think.”

The men chatted as they went through their normal pre-taping routines.   Wayne ran through his vocal warm-up exercises while Ryan stretched and Greg bounced around the room.  Usually Colin would have been stretching and moving also, but he knew today he had to conserve his energy.

“They’re ready for you in wardrobe and make-up,” Drew announced.

Entering Wardrobe, Colin started to strip off the hoodie he’d been wearing.  Hearing a gasp, he turned to find Michelle, the wardrobe assistant, staring at him in something like horror.

“My God, Colin, how much do you weigh now?”

“144,” he answered with a frown.

She withered a bit under Ryan’s glare, but gestured helplessly at Colin.  “None of his clothes are going to fit.  His regular slacks will just fall right off.”  Her voice rose to shrill.  “I don’t think I even have a man’s belt small enough in the entire department.”

“Take a breath, Michelle,” Ryan told her sternly.  “I’ve got it handled.  I brought in some new clothes for him earlier this week.  I gave them to Julie.”

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed.  “Here are your clothes, Ryan.  I’ll run and see where Julie put Colin’s stuff.  Be right back.”

Colin found himself togged out in pleated black slacks and a black tropical print shirt with teal flowers on it.  “I can’t wear green,” he commented reluctantly, because even though he really liked the shirt, “I’ll blend into the Green Screen.”

“We’re not doing Newsflash today, so don’t worry about it.”  Ryan shot him a smoldering look.  “It brings out the green in your eyes.”

Colin fought down a blush, “Thanks, Ry.  I like it.”

After getting his make-up applied, Colin stood behind the curtains with the guys.  The mild butterflies in the stomach he usually had at this moment before they entered the set were giant killer moths today.  He knew he would be in the spotlight as soon as he walked on stage.  All the attention on the real Colin Mothrie, he couldn’t hide behind his stage persona today.  Taking a deep breath he tried to calm his shaking nerves.

Two giant hands gripped his shoulders, gently kneading the taut muscles.  Turning his head slightly, he looked into Ryan’s reassuring eyes.  Without words, Ryan conveyed all his confidence in Colin.  He turned back to the stage, his breathing now a bit calmer.

“Colin, can I talk to you for a minute?”  Dan separated him from his group of friends, pulling him to the side.

“Sure, Dan”

“I just want to say how glad we all are with your recovery.”  Dan told him, apparently quite sincerely.  “This show wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Well, thank you, Dan,” Colin answered in surprise.  “I’m honored.”

“I know I’ve made mistakes with you in the past.”  Colin’s eye brows rose at the admission.  “But I’m hoping we can have a better working relationship in the future.  You’re a talented man, Colin Mochrie, and I have to admit that personally I actually quite like you.”

Colin’s jaw gaped, shocked speechless.  “Um…yeah…thanks…I’d like that, Dan.”

Behind him, Colin heard the audience reaction to the other guys entering the set.  He turned to join them but Dan grabbed his arm to hold him back.

“I just wanted you to know if you need to take a break today, just say so.  We don’t want to overwork you on your first day back.”

Who was this person and what had he done to Dan Patterson?  “I’ll let you know.” He tried to maneuver his crutches around Dan but the man stepped back into his way.

“I mean it.  Don’t try to be a hero.  We can afford to take a few breaks.”

To Colin’s consternation, he could hear the show’s theme music start to play.  “I gotta…”

“No, Colin,” Dan put his hand on Colin’s shoulder.  “Just wait a couple more seconds.”

“What…” he narrowed his eyes at Dan, who returned the look with a smirky grin.  “You planned this.”

Drew’s voice came over clearly.  “Good evening, everybody and welcome to Whose Line is it Anyway?  On tonight’s show:  Send in the Marines – Greg Proops, send in the cavalry – Wayne Brady, send in the clowns – Ryan Stiles.  And send in the heart and soul of Whose Line, the man who takes a licking and keeps on ticking – Colin Mochrie.”

Dan gave him a gentle shove, forcing Colin to swing himself forward on his crutches.  Coming out at the back of the stage, the wave of sound hit him like a physical force, almost overwhelming him.  He’d never heard it this loud on set before.  A large hand guided him up the single step and through the hole made by the removal of his chair.  Ryan steered him to center stage, then took several steps back, to join the audience, crew and cast in a thunderous standing ovation.   Colin could only blink wide-eyed, waving one hand in stunned acknowledgement.  Suddenly he found himself bombarded with an avalanche of balloons, streamers and confetti. Festive music blared from the speakers and Welcome Back & Congratulations shone onto the big monitors.  He covered his face with his hands, not knowing if he was shaking with laughter or tears.   

Soft hands landed on his shoulders and he whirled to confront a beaming Ryan, a streamer curling down his cheek. "Welcome back, Col."

"I thought you said no party," he accused, though a wide smile stretched across his face.

"I had nothing to do with it. Well, maybe just a little suggestion in the right ear."

In turn each of his fellow performers hugged him in welcome, Ryan hovering by his side, holding his crutches. 

"Hey," Wayne piped up. "Welcome back is obvious, but why congratulations?"

Frozen, Colin shot a glance at Ryan. Did Ryan want everyone to know? Colin would have been happy to shout it from the balcony for all to hear, but he wasn't sure how Ryan felt about it. He must have told the guys something, otherwise how could Congratulations been included on the sign?

His guess was confirmed when Drew held up his arms for everyone's attention. When the room quieted, he said, "I think Ryan has something he wants to say."

No one made a sound as they awaited breathlessly. Colin met Ryan's eyes and his beaming smile, giving him permission. He had never felt more at peace with himself or the world around him.

To his shock, Ryan knelt down on one knee at his side, taking Colin’s hand in his own.  “Colin Mochrie, I love you,” his voice loud enough to carry easily over the microphones.  “Will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“Oh, shit, Ry.”  Ryan had not only come out as gay, he’d done it on national television.  Colin wondered vaguely if this would ever air.  “Of course I will. Enthusiastically," he added above the roar of the crowd.

Through the next round of hugs, handshakes and congratulations, Colin never lost sight of his Ryan. And wondered if life would ever again be this good. And decided surely tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow it could only get better.

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Epilogue**

Drew popped his head into Ryan's dressing room. "Ryan, when are they going to get here?  I can’t keep telling everyone soon."

Ryan grinned. "You know how Doctor's appointments go, Drew. But he should be…" A high pitched squeal sounded in the hallway. "I think the troops have arrived."

Ryan followed Drew into the hallway, to behold a sight of which he would never tire. Colin, casually attired in jeans and rugby shirt, with an infant – squealing in delight as she bashed her stuffed horse against his nose – strapped to his chest, a toddler balanced on each hip and one more youngster clinging to his leg. Seeing Ryan, the infant ceased her bashing, held out her arms, jumping in excitement. Resulting in Colin being kicked repeatedly in the belly.

"Help me, Ry," he called plaintively to Ryan.

With a beaming smile, Ryan extricated nine month old Claire from her carrier. Ryan's nose now became the target of choice of the stuffed horse while Claire babbled, "Mmmm, mmmum,mmummm"

"Yes, that's your mom," Colin grinned teasingly at Ryan. He lifted the two toddlers, kissing each head of tousled blond hair. "This two have been a very good. They both sat and colored quietly through both appointments."

"Did they?" Ryan leaned forward to bestow his own kisses, getting giggles from the toddlers.

"Yup," the boy replied. "Very good."

Colin thrust him toward Drew. "And now they deserve the chance to go run and play. So off you go with Uncle Drew."

"Hi, Dew," three year old Sam greeted shyly. "You play Legos with me?"

"Sure," Drew ruffled the little boy's hair, then set him on the floor. "You know where they are. I'll be right behind you."

The toddler scrambled off, with a quick, "Bye, Daddy, Papa. I go play Legos."

“Me, too.” The other toddler at Colin’s right knee exclaimed.  “I play Legos, too.”  Mackenzie took off after her twin brother.

"Be good you two," Colin called after the twins. He reached down to peel four and one half year old Luke from where the boy was clinging tightly to his jeans. "Now, you, my little man, why don't we go sit down and relax a little bit."

Luke nodded slightly. Still bearing scars, emotional and physical, from the apartment building fire that had killed almost every adult member of his family, Luke had the most difficulties of the children settling into his new family. His siblings, being younger and only slightly injured in the fire, had adapted fairly quickly. Luke, in addition to horrendous nightmares, dealt with painful physical injuries. Thank goodness he and Colin had bonded from the moment they'd laid eyes on each other. At home, Luke was slowly feeling secure enough to let his energetic charming personality show occasionally. Anywhere else, he clung to Colin like a lifeline, never letting him get more than an arm's length away. Ryan had yet to be allowed to help with his braces or other medical treatments.

"How did the appointments go?"

Before Colin could answer, Kathy peeked her head around the corner, looking yearningly at baby Claire. "Can I?"

With a sigh and a shake of his head, Ryan relinquished the child into Kathy's adoring arms. "Go ahead, take her on the rounds. She loves the attention."

The youngest child removed to be oohed and ahhed over by all of the cast and crew of the Drew Carey show, the remaining three retired to Ryan's dressing room.

"The appointments were good," Colin answered Ryan's previous question. "Weren't they, kiddo?"

Luke nodded against Colin’s collarbone. "Daddy Colin held my hand so I could be brave."

Ryan smiled encouragingly at the boy, while questioning Colin silently if they needed talk out of Luke's earshot. Colin shook his head, looking quite pleased.

"Tell Daddy Ryan what happened?"

"I gots a new brace." The boy peeled his loose pants up over his skinny leg, to show a lightweight hinged stabilizer replacing the hideous steel contraption he'd previously worn.

"That's wonderful, sweetheart." Leaning down, he pressed a kiss on Luke’s forehead, slightly surprised and very pleased when the boy allowed it without recoiling.

"The doctor said it’s starting to heal nicely," Colin informed him. "He still has to go to therapy but only once a week now."

"I don't like therapy," Luke groused.

"Nobody does, kiddo, but at least it’s not every day like last month."

"I guess."

"And how about Daddy Col?  How did his appointment go?"

Limping to the couch, Colin flopped down, snuggling the youngster on his lap. "Not as good as Luke's."

"Oh, Col."

"I held his hand so he could be very brave too," Luke solemnly informed him. "He only cried a little."

"Just a little," Colin affirmed with the same solemn face.

Ryan nodded seriously at his two men. "I'm glad you were there to help your Daddy Col. I don't know what he would do without you."

Luke ducked his head at the praise, but not before Ryan saw the pleased expression on his small face. He dug into the candy jar he kept just for the kids and pulled out two twizzlers. "Here's a reward for both of you for being so brave."

"Thank you, Ryan," the boy mumbled.

"Thank you, Ryan," Colin parroted.

"Now tell me what happened."

"The doctor thinks I'll need more surgery. It looks like the screws in the ankle are coming loose."

"Oh, no, Col, not again," he groaned. It seemed quite bizarre that the one injury that had seemed so trivial at the time of his accident should be the one that haunted him almost two years later. Except for the permanent scars on his chest and throat, the other injuries had healed without lasting effect, but he'd already had three surgeries trying to fix his ankle. His free-swinging bounce had become a much more careful limp.

"Shouldn't be so bad. He said they could probably do it outpatient. He wants a CT scan before he decides."

"Well, whatever needs to be done." His mind turned to rearranging their schedules once again. The four mini-mites had already forced a major change in their lifestyles. No more twenty hour days at the studio, at least not for both of them at the same time. When they'd decided to try to adopt they'd known they’d have to make compromises. Of course, they hadn't planned for four kids at the same time or for them all to have some degree of medical and emotional issues.  Currently Colin was the appointed house-husband, at least until DCS finished taping for the season.  Then it would be Ryan’s turn to stay home while Colin completed the projects he had lined up.  The weekends that Whose Line taped, they brought the kids with, under the watchful eye of a nanny.  Then the much anticipated three months in their home in Washington, just them and the kids with no projects or pressure.

Sam and Mac scampered back into Ryan's office, each flying their own Lego planes, making engine sounds, Drew trailing behind them. "Wook, wook! hairpane."

"Let me see that airplane," Ryan demanded with a joyful grin. Luke bounced off Colin’s lap to examine his sibling’s creations.

Each of them had their issues, their triumphs large and small. And somehow they all fit together. Ryan wouldn't change the life he'd found for anything in the world. Even with the past two years of meeting the parents, a wedding, honeymoon, having the munchkins fall in their laps, threatened criminal charges and a betrayal of trust…

But that's all another story for another day.

 


End file.
